


Red, White, Whatever

by elyssblair



Category: Hellboy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyssblair/pseuds/elyssblair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>AU set after Hellboy II and diverging from Avengers movie-verse before the Avengers movie. </i><br/>While trying to communicate with Asgard, Jane and Selvig open a dimensional rift that drags Thor back to earth and pulls Nuada, Nuala and Loki out of limbo. At the same time Jane, Clint and Selvig get sucked into the rift before it closes. SHIELD and the BPRD have to work together to wrangle the fugitives, figure out a way to get the missing SHIELD personnel back and stop HYDRA, who are trying to get their hands on the technology that created the rift to begin with. In addition, Abe inherited information from Broom (who was a friend and colleague of Erskines) about the Super Soldier serum. Information about side-effects that are beginning to make Steve think he's losing his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [dark_roast](http://dark-roast.livejournal.com/74518.html) for the amazing art and to lunarraine for the beta help.  
> Check out the art masterpost [here](http://dark-roast.livejournal.com/74518.html) to see the awesome work!
> 
> written for [avengers crossover big bang](http://avengers-xbb.livejournal.com/)

****

**Red, White, Whatever**

_“Red, white, whatever. Guys are all the same."_

Liz Sherman — Hellboy (2004)

 

Part One

Steve sat straight and still in Fury's glass and steel office while the director gave him the SHIELD sales pitch. Out of habit, he listened politely and attentively, despite the distraction of a faint hum teasing the edge of his senses from somewhere deeper in the building. And the fact that the speech was unnecessary. Fury had had him hooked back in the gym two hours ago.

Steve hadn't had much to begin with before the war. No family, few friends. What little HYDRA had left him, seventy years of sleep had fin ally taken away.

Saving the world, or at least his little corner of it, had been the only thing he'd wanted to do since he'd first heard the horrific news about Pearl Harbor. If he was honest, most of his life. He stood up to bullies because letting them win meant they'd go after others like him. Too small, too weak, too sick.

Now, the drive to protect, to serve his country and the world, was all he had left.

His mother had drilled politeness into him, though, so Steve waited until the man paused before interrupting.

"Director Fury, sir."

He took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. In the sudden, ringing silence, Steve drew himself up. The soft hum seemed to be getting louder, as if whatever was vibrating the air in the building was getting closer. He pushed the awareness a way and focused on what he had to say.

"You don't have to convince me to join. I have two skills. I can draw and I can fight. From what I've seen the last few months, what's considered art now isn't anything like what I'd create."

Once they'd sorted out the havoc of his initial introduction to the twenty-first century, Fury had set him up in a small apartment and assigned a young agent to acquaint him with seventy years of history, culture and technology. Everything he'd learned since only made him more certain the country, and the world, needed defenders more than ever.

"I want to be part of SHIELD. Part of this initiative you've been talking about."

The hum became a crackle of energy skittering over his skin seconds before the door to Fury's office banged open. A dark haired man in a disheveled suit and dark sunglasses stormed in, stomping past Steve's chair without even a flicker of notice. A woman in a black SHIELD uniform charged in on his heels. Long honed instinct had Steve on his feet body ready for anything.

"I told you, the Director is in a meeting…"

"Whatever he's doing, it’s not more important than the very fabric of the universe, now is it?" He dropped the briefcase he'd been holding and glared up at the director, deliberately turning his back on the agent.

She snarled and reached for a square weapon on her belt. Fury stood and waved her off before she could use it on the stranger.

"It's all right, Agent Hill. Obviously Stark has something he feels is more important than protocol or courtesy or the fact that entering this building without proper authorization constitutes a hostile act."

"Whatever," he flapped his hand behind him. "Still not the worst thing I've ever done. Or as bad as the potential consequences of whatever it was you were doing yesterday…"

Stark. A name from the past that made Steve lean forward and look closer while the man continued to rant at Fury. The dark hair, the profile, familiar in its lines had his heart hammering. Older, but still strong and cocky.

"…energy signatures so obvious, trained monkeys could have spotted…"

"Howard?"

The man froze. The body snapped so tight and rigid when his flow of words cut off mid-syllable, Steve actually felt sorry for the man’s muscles.

Stark’s head turned slowly toward Steve, seeming to notice him for the first time. His expression caught somewhere between a glare and astonishment.

"Do I look like Howard?"

"Uh, sort of." Steve answered, ducking his head and feeling sheepish. "A little older, maybe."

The mouth dropped open, a strangled sound bursting out of startled lips. "Older? What the fuck? Who the hell are you?" Before Steve could answer, the man was dismissing him, turning back to glare at Fury. "Who the fuck is this?"

The Director's lips pinched up at one corner. After a handful of meetings over the past few months, Steve still didn't know if that look was amusement or disgust.

"Tony, allow me to introduce Steve Rogers. Better known as Captain America."

This time, Steve was sure the Director’s lip twitch was a smirk when the man, Tony, made another one of those strangled, squawking sounds. "Cap, this is Anthony Stark. Howard's son."

Steve nodded and held out his hand, feeling a little silly. He should have realized Howard would have aged a lot more in the intervening years. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark. Your father was a good man and a good friend."

Tony looked down at the hand, then his faced closed off, a sneer sliding into place and masking the flicker of something vulnerable. "Then I'm sure I'll be a disappointment to you."

Stark turned his back on Steve and leveled a glare at Fury. The buzzing energy still humming in the background took on an angry edge. Something howled deep inside Steve at the rejection. He had to curl his fingers into a tight fist to keep from reaching out and resting his hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

He took several deep, steadying breaths until the hum quieted back to a steady annoyance. He knew his reaction was ridiculous. He didn't even know why he had responded so strongly to the snub. Perhaps because Tony was the only tenuous connection he had to his past.

"…considered the moral, social or cultural implications of cloning? Not to mention the field day the press will have when they get hold of this story?"

"He's not a clone."

Tony paused, blinked, cast a sideways glance in Steve's direction. "An actor? Plastic surgery?" He turned fully and stepped closer squinting before running a thumb along Steve's cheekbone.

Steve inhaled sharply, the buzz in his ears disappearing as heat sparked behind his eyes.

Fury sighed, sat down and steepled his hands on top of his desk, drawing both their attention back to him.

"He's not an actor, either. He's the real thing. If you sit down I'll explain it to you."

Steve immediately dropped back into the chair he'd vacated when Stark first entered. Tony stood for a second, gave a disdainful glance at the matching chair next to him and hopped up on Fury's desk with a cheeky smile.

"Explain away, Director."

The explanation took much longer than Steve would have expected since Tony interrupted Fury every couple of sentences to make snide comments or ask complicated questions full of jargon Steve couldn't understand.

"So you went all the way to the North Pole and brought back a Capsicle, huh?" Then the smirk vanished and Tony jumped to his feet. "Wait, did you recover the shield? Can I see it? I have about a hundred experiments…"

"Yes, we found the shield. It belongs to the Captain, so you'll have to ask him if you want to play with his toys."

The smile Tony turned on Steve was bright and sweet and full of charm. Steve's shoulders tensed. He didn't want to say no to that look. And the man's father did create it. But the shield and the compass were his only physical connections to his past he had.

Before Stark could speak and he was forced to answer, klaxon alarms blared around them. For a second, Steve thought the weird hum only he seemed to hear had exploded in his head but then Fury shot to his feet. He was around the desk and out the door in a blur. Steve was on the Director's heels without even thinking about it. Vaguely, he noticed Stark shrug out of his jacket and reach for his briefcase but didn't have time to wonder about the businessman's unusual response to an alarm.

Halfway down the hall, another strange sound pulsated in the air around them. A glance over his shoulder had him throwing himself at Fury's back. A metal suit, so like the one that had ultimately led to Bucky's death, bore down on them in a red and gold blur.

"Easy, Cap, that's just Iron Man."

Suddenly some of the avalanche of information he'd absorbed since waking up coalesced in his brain. Howard Stark. Stark Industries. Billionaire playboy Tony Stark. Iron Man.

Like everything else he'd discovered so far, heroes were a lot different in the twenty-first century.

 #

Tony followed Fury and Captain Anachronism through hallways and staircases bathed in dim red shadows from the alarm lights. Speaking of alarms, didn't anyone at SHIELD ever have a hangover? The klaxons were making his ears bleed and his head throb worse than when he'd woken up this morning.

"Jarvis, turn down the audio inputs until we actually get to the danger."

 He kept his voice low. It was too early in the day to deal with another disapproving look from the frozen wonder. Especially since he wasn't sure what he'd done to earn the last one. When Rogers had first caught sight of the Mark V, fear had made his face pale then determination tightened it. He'd moved to protect Fury, of all people, until the Director had identified the suit. Disdain followed the flare of recognition before his expression flattened out into resolve. Then he turned and started following Fury once again into unknown danger without even asking any questions.

Speaking of…

"Hey, Patch, what's up? That's an awful lot of bells to let you know the breakroom's out of coffee. Care to give a national hero a heads up?"

The SHIELD Director didn't bother to even snarl at Tony, just ignored him and kept heading up. They had to be pretty close to the roof, by now.

"I don't suppose you'd at least tell me if it had anything to do with those inter-dimensional energy readings I wasn't supposed to notice."

Fury continued to ignore him but stopped abruptly at the heavily reinforced door at the top of the stairwell. It took a hand and eye scan along with a verbal key to open it.

Huh. Generally doesn't take that much effort to get out of a stairwell. Not to mention, it probably wouldn't pass building code as an emergency exit.

On the other side of the security door, a huge, circular lab was in a state of chaos. Normally, Tony had no doubt, the room would be bathed in bright sunlight at this time of day considering the ceiling was made almost entirely of glass. Computers, tables and file cabinets ringed the outside walls. Heavy dark storm clouds, though, boiled in the sky as far as he could see and left the room in a shadowed gloom. In the center of the room, an Eiffel tower shaped machine stood on a raised platform, a glaring white light shooting from its tip in a steady beam up through a hole in the glass ceiling. A blue glow peeked out from under the cage of metal. Behind it hazy images flashed in and out of focus. A lifeless desert. A star-filled sky. A black and white forest, three still people tucked in among the trees. An alien city filled with lights.

A pretty brunette woman and an older man frantically worked over one of the computers, an air of desperation around them as their fingers flew over keyboards. Behind them, another attractive brunette, probably too young for Tony, wrung her hands and yelled unhelpful things. "Shut it down. Oh my god. Oh my god. Hurry."

Clint Barton stood in front of the metal monstrosity, bow aimed at it like he'd kill the machine if it made a wrong move.

The whine of multiple generators kicking to life with a thundering rumble nearly drowned out the annoying klaxon. Everyone froze, staring at the ball of clean white light growing at the tip of to the tower.

Now the brunette at the computer was chanting "Oh my god" along with the younger chick, hands flying even more frantically.

"What the fuck is going on, Fury?"

"Something that isn't supposed to be possible." He tore his eye away from the swirling light to aim a knife-sharp glare at the pair behind the computers.

"Dr. Foster, is that what I think it is?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know." The woman at the keyboard yelled without looking up. "It's not possible yet. It shouldn't be. I don't know."

"Then it just started up on its own?" The incredulous growl made Tony think the Director didn't believe that for a second. The guilty look 'Jane' cast his way before redoubling her efforts suggested that he was wrong.

"We were testing the communication array and something went wrong."

"I don't remember authorizing another test—"

"Jane, something is happening here as well." The voice boomed through the speakers at the bottom of the tower. If possible, Fury's glare got darker and the woman's head dropped even lower in embarrassment.

Another voice, softer but still loud through the speakers. "Heimdall says the Bifrost is trying to form and we should move away from the edge."

"No, if we are in danger than Jane is more so."

"Jane!"

The older man had stopped typing at the conversation and was staring at the light on the top of the tower. The shaft double in size, the light blazed into the blinding end of the spectrum until even Iron Man's mask couldn't compensate.

Two loud cracks reverberated throughout the room and when Tony's vision cleared, two unconscious bodies lay sprawled in front of the steel contraption. A half-naked blond linebacker wearing nothing but leather pants and gripping the handle of an ornate hammer lay face down at the base of the machine. Next to him, honest to god, Tony could swear it was Robin Hood. Maybe Pepper had been right about his drinking.

"Thor!"

Jane ran from behind the desk sliding to her knees next to the half-naked blond.

"Jane. No. The bridge is too unstable." The older man followed her out, his mouth wrinkling in worry when he stared up at the now wildly wavering beam of light. He grabbed her shoulder, trying to pull her away. She fought him, tears streaming down her face until they both tumbled back closer to the glowing, whining machine. Barton moved closer, bow still up and ready. Rogers started forward but Fury grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back while all hell broke loose in the room.

The tapestry of scenes behind the machine flickered faster until they began to blur together. The beam pulsed hot and wild and flared out of control once again.

When his vision cleared from the second blinding flash, Jane, Barton and the other scientist were nowhere to be seen, the white beam had died completely and the room was now lit only by the pale blue glow of the machine and the red alarm lights. The sudden silence of the generators made the klaxons sound even louder until Fury shouted orders that shut off the alarm and brought the regular lighting back on.

The Director glared at the shaking girl still staring wide eyed from behind the computer but he demanded of the entire room, "Could somebody please tell me what the fuck just happened?"

"Jarvis, you were monitoring this, right?" Tony asked, his suits audio set so everyone around him could hear the answer.

"Yes, sir. Similar readings to the last few events, except on a much grander scale. Preliminary examination of the data suggests both the first and second spike at your location were full manifestations of an Einstein-Rosen bridge."

Tony flipped up his mask so Fury could get the full force of his incredulous stare. "Wormholes, Fury? Really? Are you completely insane?"

The Director's lip curled up into a snarl but before he could tear into Tony, Jarvis added to his proclamation of doom.

"The second spike at your location was mirrored outside of a small town in New Mexico. I’m also reading minor levels of gamma radiation at your locations."

Fury started swearing. Tony had no idea what the problem was but watching the director lose it made him laugh out loud anyway. His mirth dried up, though, at the pinched, disapproving in Rogers soft blue eyes.

 #

Steve had no idea what was going on but he was pretty sure Tony Stark's amusement was inappropriate. Of course Fury's language in front of the young lady wasn't really polite, either.

Uncertain, what to do with no actual enemy to fight, he fell back on his upbringing. A couple of quick steps had him standing next to the shell shocked girl staring up at the now silent machine.

"Miss, uh, are you all right?" He tentatively reached out to pat her shoulder.

She blinked a couple times then turned a wide eyed frown on him.

"You'd think I'd be used to this, right? Months of boring science stuff punctuated by moments of inexplicable terror that makes absolutely no sense." She took a deep shuddering breath than glanced back at the machine like she was afraid it would rumble back to life. "They're gone. Jane and Dr. Selvig and the smart-ass. They were there. Then they weren't."

"Darcy!"

Apparently Steve's attempts to be gentlemanly had attracted the Director's attention to the poor girl. Instead of looking nervous at the thundering tone, she wrinkled her nose then pasted on a bright innocent smile before leaning around Steve to meet Fury's piercing glare.

"Yes, sir?" Despite the words, there was nothing deferent about her posture at all.

"What the hell happened here? As far as I was informed, we weren't schedule for another contact attempt until next week. And I know no one authorized an attempt to create a full bridge."

"Hey, don't look at me." She raised her hands and widened her eyes. On anyone else, it would have been a look of pure innocence. There was a determined, accusing glint, however, when she met the Director's gaze.

"This is all your fault. And the bridge was totally a fluke. That was not in the plan."

"My fault?" Fury's voice was low and monotone, the effort he was making to keep calm extremely evident. "How was this my fault? And what exactly was the _plan_?"

The girl, Darcy, crossed her arms over her chest.

"You've used Jane's work to contact Asgard twice, now, and she's barely gotten to talk to Thor for thirty seconds. It was all SHIELD this and Asgard that. She was bummed. The changes they made after yesterday's test were ready but Eric noticed in the simulation that the upgrades could start up the communication array, as a… side effect or something. None of us said anything, just went ahead and did it, figuring Jane might get a chance to talk to her Nordic hunk for a few minutes before you caught on. You know, the whole, forgiveness is easier to get than permission theory? So, your fault. If you hadn't hogged the inter-dimensional phone lines, maybe they would have worked harder to get rid of the glitch before running the test. As soon as they started it up though, it was obvious something was wrong but nothing worked to shut it down."

Fury closed his eye halfway through the rambling explanation. Now he was pressing his fingers hard against the bridge of his nose.

Steve only understood one word in five of what Darcy had spouted. But that was enough to make his blood cold.

"Asgard?"

As in Teutonic mythology? The kind of thing Johann Schmidt was obsessed with? He turned to look more closely at the metallic tower behind him. In the calm after the storm, the blue glow was so familiar he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it immediately.

"The Tesseract."

"Tesseract?"

Tony's voice behind him made him jump. He hadn't heard the man approach. A man encased in that much metal should never have been able to sneak up on him. And he should step away. But he remained still, his back actually touching the iron, or whatever, of the suit.

"Tesseract." Tony didn't seem to notice how close he was, brows furrow like he was trying to remember something. "My father wrote about that in his journal. It's unlimited and unpredictable. Like apocalypse level bad news. That's what you're using to fuel a wormhole? Are you insane? What the hell are you playing at, Fury?"

"First, the wormhole wasn't supposed to be happening anytime soon. Second, that information is classified and need-to-know. You are not part of SHIELD. You're not even suppose to be here—"

A groan distracted them all when the large, blond man began to shift on the floor, his hands reaching out.

"Jane? Jane, where are you?"

As soon as his eyes were fully open, he was on his feet, hammer at the ready.

"Where is my Jane? What have you done with her? Where am I? Who are you people?"

Steve dropped into a crouch, wishing he had his shield with him. Behind him, he heard the sound of Tony, Iron Man, shifting to the ready, mask making a soft whine when it closed.

Before violence could erupt, Agent Coulson, forgotten and silent in the mayhem, stepped forward.

"Easy, Thor. I apologize for the abrupt recall but things got a little out of control there for a minute."

"Son of Coul." He nodded in greeting, lowering the massive hammer slightly, but keeping it at the ready. "Where is Jane? She was here? I heard her voice. Didn't I?"

"She was. We're not sure, yet, what happened but she disappeared soon after you appeared. Along with Dr. Selvig." The agent paused, glancing around the room. "And another of our agents. We are going to do everything in our power to find them all and bring them back safely."

Thor nodded and the hammer fell loosely to his side before he knelt to check on the other, still unconscious man on the floor.

 #

Clint pushed himself up off the ground, spitting out dirt and leaves before lifting his head to check out his surroundings.

For half a second, panic gripped his lungs and terror made him cold all over. He could only see in black and white and the gradient shades between. His eyes were his life. If they weren't perfect, he couldn't shoot. If he couldn't shoot, he was no use to SHIELD.

And without SHIELD, he was without—

In the time it took to inhale a deep breath, he realized there were hints of color hidden among the grays. Another blink and he realized he was no longer in the ERMB lab. Pretty sure he was no longer on Earth.

They. They weren't on Earth.

As he got to his feet, he saw Jane and Dr. Selvig doing the same, looking just as confused and lost as they brushed themselves off.

"Where are we?" Clint asked but wasn't surprised when both scientists shook their heads in bafflement.

"I have no idea," Jane answered slowly while continuing to look around.

"Okay. Then how did we get here?"

She glanced down at their feet and swept her hand over the weird design etched into the ground. It looked vaguely familiar.

"Best guess? We somehow managed to activate an Einstein-Rosen bridge."

"So not on Earth. No idea where we are or how to get back. Got it. We probably should get a lay of the land and find shelter."

Selvig nodded but Jane bit her lip, looking around at the featureless clearing then back down at the symbols. "Okay. But, uh, we probably shouldn't go too far. They can use the residual energy of _this_ to lock onto. If they can figure out what went wrong and if they can recreate the bridge.

"If," Clint repeated gently, pointing out the number of assumptions necessary in her statement. He didn't necessarily doubt it would happen. He knew, if the situation was reversed, he would do everything he could to get… someone back. But sometimes, in their job, everything wasn't enough.

"Yeah, okay. We'll try to find something close and set up camp. At least for now."

 #

Twelve hours later, Tony slumped in a chair, Armani suit now missing its jacket and hopelessly wrinkled. He watched the others settled around the conference table rather than listen to Fury drone on while not actually answering any questions.

So far, the only thing the one-eyed fiend had admitted was that they'd been using the Tesseract to create a communication beam. Audio only. The bridge wasn't even supposed to be possible, yet. According to what the Doctors Foster and Selvig had shared with Fury, anyway. Or, at least, what Fury was willing to share with them.

Since the Director had hustled them out of the Tesseract room without letting Tony get a look at the glowy box thing or the machine and was adamantly refusing to let him look at any of the research, Tony had amused himself by watching the others. The first hour of the, so far, fruitless meeting had been spent calming Thor. It had taking them awhile to break through his shouts and demands to mount a rescue for his Jane so they could explain they fully intended to. As soon as they figured out where she, and the others, had gone. The Robin Hood refugee turned out to be Fandral, one of the Warriors Three. And other than brooding and standing guard at his prince’s back, he didn't seem to do any tricks at all. Boring.

Natasha had been recalled from somewhere, doing something Tony was sure would give him nightmares. Now she sat stone-faced and so perfectly straight in her chair that it gave Tony a backache just looking at it. The hint of concern she quickly squashed while Fury had filled the others in on exactly what had happened on the top floor was something he'd file away for later use. There had been rumors about her and Barton but he'd dismissed her icy heart having a warm spot, just like he'd dismissed the rumors about Barton and Coulson. Everyone knew Agent Phil was an automaton. Now though, he was going to have to rethink his position on the Widow and Hawkeye. And come up with some really annoying nicknames for the pair.

Since that one, brief show of humanity, however, she'd remained her usual implacable, terrifying self.

Which left only Captain America for Tony to entertain himself with watching. Sure, there was the chiseled good looks. The hot, sculpted body under the tight t-shirt and baggy jeans. The sharp blue eyes that kept glancing Tony's way, tightening at the corners like he didn't understand what he saw and then looking away again. It made Tony want to duck his head in shame at the same time it made him want to do something unrepentantly childish. Like waggle his hands in his ears and stick out his tongue.

He settled for sprawling deeper in his chair and turning away from the others to face the door, letting his mind wander through everything he knew about Einstein-Rosen theory, the Tesseract and every sci-fi show wormhole he could remember. Maybe he'd watch Stargate again, when he got home.

Which was why he was the only one who noticed when the door silently slid open and Coulson entered, followed by a younger agent in a nearly identical gray suit.

Huh. Maybe he was going to have to have that talk with Fury about the immorality of cloning after all.

Despite the fifteen year age difference, the two men shared a lot of the same characteristics. Besides the suit, the dark hair and eyes, the same average height and build, they each had that non-descript, bland, nothing-to-see-here quality at first glance. The kind of air that meant very few people gave them enough of a second look to see how attractive they really were. The hint of intelligence and humor behind the blank, accountant's stare. The well-built, compact body under the stiff suit. The competence and grace in every precise, thought out move.

Tony knew from experience how BAMF Coulson could be. Despite the younger agent's harmless appearance, Tony had no doubt it would be better not to mess with him either. Especially since Coulson had let him know tasers were now standard issue to any agent working anywhere near Tony.

"So what exactly went wrong?" The Captain's soft question pulled Tony's attention back like Thor's shouting and Fury's growl could never have.

Fury shrugged and turned one, hard eye on Darcy. "That's what I'd like to know."

The girl looked up from doodling with a glittery pink pen and shook her head. "Oh, no. Don't look at me. I have no idea how that thing works to begin with. Poli-sci major, remember? I'm only still a lab assistant because SHIELDS paranoid about letting anyone else in their sandbox. And I'm afraid Coulson will steal my iPod again if I try to quit."

She flashed the agent a smirk that he returned with a millimeter lift of an eyebrow. Wow. The intern nearly got a whole emotional expression out of the android.

Fury cleared his throat, a not so subtle reminder to get back on track but she just rolled her eyes. Tony was beginning to like her. Maybe he'd hire her away from SHIELD. He could always use more fearless smart-asses on the payroll. Pissing off Fury would just be a bonus.

"Yeah, so, like I said, Jane missed Thor."

"And I her," The muscled blond god dropped his head when he whispered his mournful response.

What was it, anyway, with all the buff blonds? His gaze automatically slid toward Steve. Captain America. No point in getting overly familiar. Sure the guy was hot but Tony remembered the shock and disappointment when the hero realized he wasn't Howard. Tony might as well get used to disappointment, because a) it was doubtful he was Mr. Law and Order’s type. And b) Tony wouldn't try to hit that, even if he was.

He'd fucked up enough trying to be what Pepper needed. No way he could twist himself into the type of goody-two-shoes pretzel Rogers would appreciate. Considering the decade Cap had grown up in, well, that probably wouldn't be enough change anyway.

"They knew the test they were running would probably trigger an accidental activation of the communication device but they went ahead with it anyway,” Darcy explained. “Then something went wrong that they weren't expecting. Right from the beginning, all the feedback they were getting was completely haywire. They tried to shut it down but none of the overrides were working."

"Heimdall stands guard at the edge of the bridge. He sensed the first two communications from your world, and this latest one as well. He too, could sense something different about it and sent someone to wake me immediately. I could hear Jane and was eager to speak with her but I could also hear that she was busy dealing with something very wrong. Heimdall and the Warriors Three tried to get me away but I could not leave knowing Jane was in danger. Fandral was attempting to pull me back from the edge when the Bifrost came to life once again. It was not like we were used to. In the past, it has always been a straight voyage. This time, it felt like we bounced between all Nine worlds. The jarring and dizzying ride left us unconscious before we landed."

"And that's when we walked in," Fury growled in frustration. They knew nothing more now, than when they'd started this farce. "Agent Coulson, report. And please tell me you have some good news for me."

"Stark's AI was correct. A second event did take place."

Tony tossed his arm over the back of his chair and smirked. "You doubted Jarvis? He'll be so hurt. Unlike you, he does have rudimentary emotional circuits."

That got him a microscopic twitch of Coulson's eye. Tony considered it a win and made a mental note to mark it down on his chart later.

 Coulson continued, however, as if Tony wasn't even in the room. "The terminus of the event occurred just outside of Puente Antiguo, New Mexico."

This time it was Fury whose face betrayed him, going slack for just a heartbeat before smoothing back into his usual grimace. Interesting.

"Three people apparently walked out of the desert around that time, dressed oddly enough to make the locals take notice. Shortly after that, two vehicles were reported stolen and eyewitnesses reported them heading out of town in opposite directions. We've got eyes on the ground now and are just waiting for more information."

When he was finished, the room was silent. Tony leaned forward, glancing back at the young man at the door before settling his gaze on Coulson.

"Okay. All that's important but I still have one question?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Coulson didn't sigh but the sound was implied in the tone of his acknowledgment.

He tilted his head toward the door and smirked. "What's up with your _mini-me_?"

From the corner of his eye, he could swear he actually saw Steve smile. Apparently, he’d caught up on the important cultural movies since waking up.

Coulson raised his hand waved once at the young agent who stood straighter and adjusted his cuffs at the attention.

"This is Agent Myers. Formerly of the FBI. He'll be acting as our liaison to the BPRD."

Tony blinked, leaned back and crossed his arms. "What the hell is a BPRD?"

 #

John stood stiffly by the door, trying hard not to fidget when the entire room turned to stare at him.

"What the hell is a BPRD?"

Coulson nodded at him and he swallowed hard. When SHIELD had recruited him in Antarctica, he'd put his brief time with that organization behind him. For a few months, he'd felt like he'd had a home, a family. For the first time since his uncle's death, he hadn't felt quite so alone. His summary expulsion and exile to the end of the earth, literally, had hurt like hell. So he'd locked the few warm memories of Red, Liz, Broom, and Abe away along with the hurt and rejection and thrown himself into his work.

Now, he was being forced to face all of that again.

To give himself a minute to cover old wounds, John walked across the room and stood at the head of the table with Coulson and Fury.

"BPRD stands for the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense."

Stark barked out a laugh. "Is someone paid by the word to name these things?"

Captain America shot the billionaire a sharp reprimanding look and Stark rolled his eyes. But, surprisingly, considering everything John had heard about the man, he quieted, leaned back in his chair and at least acted like he was listening.

"The BRPD was originally created during World War II to combat occult operations of the Nazi's. The organizations current charge is to protect the country from the occult, paranormal and supernatural."

"The occult? Like mediums, ghost, things that go bump in the night?"

A bittersweet chill wormed through John and his mouth quirked into a sad smile.

"Among other things. The founder once described the BRPD as 'The ones who bump back.' We—they’ve dealt with demons, mystics and a clockwork assassin. Vampires, trolls, and a kappa.”

Thor and his friend nodded sagely, the Captain looked confused, Romanoff remained stoic and Stark's eyebrows had shifted up to his hairline with skepticism.

"The paranormal, huh? Really? No boogie-men or tooth fairies?"

John had read the file after the whole Bethmoora fuck up but figure Stark didn't really want to know the truth about childhood fables.

"Yeah, I know. Sounds nearly as crazy as Nordic gods falling out of the sky." He glanced at Thor and Fandral, forcing his face to remain completely neutral. He'd learned a few things from Coulson in the three years he'd worked for SHIELD. Among them was the fact that the quickest way to drive a smart ass like Tony Stark nuts was to remain stoic no matter what the provocation.

Stark opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking nonplussed. John mentally marked it as his first point.

Thor, looking serious asked earnestly, "What matter of men take on such fearsome foes?"

"Uh, they’re not all, exactly, men—"

The door opened, Hellboy barely fitting through the door when he entered.

"Never fear the cavalry is here," the demon boomed as he stepped to the side to let Abe and Liz in behind him. "Heard SHIELD had a little problem with inter-dimensional pests and somebody was finally smart enough to call in the experts… Myers."

He stopped abruptly, obviously surprised to see John. Liz poked him from behind and he started back into motion again. "Long time, no see, John."

The tone was tentative and uncertain.

John's breath caught in his throat for a moment, wondering what it meant that his former friends looked happy to see him.

In the background, he heard Stark murmuring. "Is that a fish wearing a toilet seat?"

He was quickly shushed, most likely by the Captain, but it brought John back and reminded him that what worked with Stark would probably serve him well in this instance too.

Keeping his face bland and his voice ruthlessly neutral, he answered Hellboy. "Four years, actually. I hear congratulations are in order."

The smile was wide and real. "The twins. Yeah. They're something. You'll have to stop by and see them for yourself. Sometime. Anytime."

Despite his best effort to stay stoic, John's eyebrow shot up. Red stepped closer, keeping his voice low and projecting it towards John so only the two of them could hear it.

"I didn't actually mean for you to get sent to Antarctica. I was being my usual idiot self. Jealous and ranting and Manning took something I said seriously. Next thing I knew, you were gone and everyone was blaming me." He sighed, glanced at Liz and shrugged.

"Everyone. Then there was the whole nightmare Golden Army thing and Manning completely cracked. When Krauss replaced him as Director and we came back, we tried to get you reassigned to us but you'd disappeared. No matter who I strong-armed, all we got was 'Sorry, classified.'"

It was as close as Hellboy ever got to an apology. And the knowledge that they wanted him back, that they'd tried to find him, thawed something in John's chest that had been iced-over since Antarctica.

He flashed his own tentative smile. "Yeah. This place was warmer, so… Anyway, when the crisis of the day is over, you'll have to show me some pictures."

Fury cleared his throat and John winced when he realized their little drama had played out in front of most of what his boss hoped to someday be SHIELD's elite team.

"If your happy reunion is over, would you mind introducing everyone. Coulson, keep me informed." When the agent nodded, the director swept out of the room with a swirl of leather trench coat.

Bemused, John smiled at his friends and gestured for them to sit while he introduced them. "This is Liz Sherman, Abraham Sapien and Hellboy."

"Hellboy?" Stark perked up, snapping his fingers. "Punching cars in the middle of New York City. That was real?"

Red shrugged nonchalantly but the smug smile made it clear he was pleased to be recognized. "Eh. Sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do."

John made a mental note to keep Stark and Red away from each other as much as possible. Hurrying on, he turned to the men, and woman at the table. "This is Senior Agent Coulson. Tony Stark, who you may have also seen on the news as Iron Man. Thor and Fandral, they are… visiting… from Asgard." That got him a curious look from Abe. "Natasha Romanoff, one of SHIELD's best field agents. And Steve Rogers, better known, at one time, as Captain America."

Abe startled in his seat and turned to stare at the blond, who fidgeted under the sudden attention and Abe's unblinking stare. "Captain America? I thought he died before the end of World War II?"

Rogers dipped his head and pink tinged his pale cheeks. Feeling sorry for the hero out of time, John cleared his throat to bring attention away from the Captain. "To make a long story short, he spent the last seventy years in suspended animation."

"Great. Now we know each other’s names. Maybe we can skip the ice-breaker games. Why are the ghost hunters here?"

John sent a sharp look Stark's way. The billionaire was smirking and sprawled nonchalantly in his chair but he sent a furtive glance in the Captain's direction, like he was also deliberately trying to shift attention away from Rogers.

Agent Coulson stepped closer to the table and flipped open the file in front of him before speaking.

"Since we've lost our only two experts on the Einstein-Rosen bridge, the BRPD have agreed to offer their assistance," Coulson explained. "They have a great deal of experience with a variety of inter-dimensional holes, doorways and rifts. They also have a great deal of experience dealing with the kinds of things that come through those rifts."

"Like whatever landed in New Mexico." Stark muttered.

The other's ignored him but the Captain gave the senior agent a serious, thoughtful frown. "If they have experience with this… bridge thing, why weren't they called in to help in the beginning?"

"Oooh, oooh, oooh! I know this one." Tony, voice dripping sarcasm, thrust his hand in the air like a fourth grade teacher's pet. "It's because Fury's a paranoid prick who doesn't play well with others. He doesn't invite others to play in his sandbox. He wraps it in electrified barb wire and hangs it with 'No Trespassing' signs. He really needs to work on his boundary issues."

John watched Coulson's fingers twitch slightly at his side. He had no doubt his mentor was fighting not to pinch the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve the frustration induced headache Stark always caused him.

 #

Phil ignored Stark's pleas for attention and looked around at the motley crew Fury had saddled him with. Thor practically vibrated in his chair with the repressed need to _do something_ to rescue his fair Jane. Natasha was serene and still in her seat but radiated a silent expectation that something significant would be done. Soon. Coulson understood the tacit communication completely. Sherman and Sapien looked attentive but Hellboy looked bored despite his wife's occasional poke. Captain America looked confused and lost but eager to help.

Phil graced him with a reassuring smile. It was necessary to make sure each member of his team got what they needed. Stark needed a nanny with a taser. Steve Rogers needed a gentler, guiding hand.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Phil had actually gotten to meet his boyhood hero. And now was going to get to work with the man.

"First, this is privileged information. No one outside this room, other than Director Fury and Director Krauss have access to it.”

"The Einstein-Rosen Bridge Machine uses the Tesseract as power source and is run by a computer program created by Dr. Foster with the assistance of Dr. Selvig. The first phase was intended as a communication device to make contact with the Asgardians. The second phase was always intended to eventually re-create the Einstein-Rosen bridge but Drs. Foster and Selvig did not expect it to be feasible for months."

The door opened and Sitwell stepped through with a file folder in his hand. Phil raised an eyebrow and the agent positioned himself against the wall to wait.

"The first successful test of its communication function was made two weeks ago at our temporary facility in New Mexico."

"New Mexico? Anywhere near the Punta place?"

Of course Stark picked up on the details, even when everyone assumed he was napping. "Puente Antigo. And yes. Thor and Jane spoke briefly."

Darcy rolled her eyes and reached over to pat Thor's arm when he sighed.

Phil lowered a steady gaze on the room to make it clear he didn't appreciate the constant interruptions before he continued with the report.

 "At that time, the Director spoke with Thor and Odin. The entire test lasted 17 minutes and 13 seconds before atmospheric interference became too great and ended the transmission. The program was relocated here, to the New York headquarters where upgrades were made to the machinery and to the software that runs it. A second successful test occurred 39 hours ago that lasted 22 minutes and 34 seconds before the atmospheric compensation once again degraded. I'm assuming, Miss Lewis, that Dr. Foster and Dr. Selvig were attempting to improve the compensation?"

"Um, I guess. They were talking about stabilizing the beam. Making sure the call didn't get dropped or whatever. Whatever changes Selvig made, when they did the simulation, it indicated there was a bug that would cause a start up."

"And they decided to leave it in." He kept his gaze steady and disappointed until her smile faded and she dropped her gaze.

"It wasn't my idea. No one said anything about," she flapped her hand wildly. " _That_ happening. Jane wouldn't have risked it."

He nodded, knowing she was right. There was no way Jane would have risked something going wrong and hurting Thor.

"All right. Stark, I'd like you to work with Darcy." Phil slid the second file across the table towards him. "Look through the research and the code and see if you can figure out what went wrong."

Stark straightened, eyes bright with an avaricious glint. His arms stretched out, making grabby hands. Phil cleared his throat and kept his fingers on the top of the stack until dark eyes finally met his. "Everything you see and read is proprietary information belonging exclusively to SHIELD. If I see anything even remotely resembling this at the next Stark Expo, you'll wish I'd brought the taser with me. Do you understand me?"

The sigh was long and drawn out but the nod was definitive. Once sure Stark was clear on the repercussions, he lifted his hand and let the billionaire play with his new toy. Then he nodded at Sitwell, who crossed and handed him the new file. He flipped it open and bit back the frustrated breath.

"We have confirmation that those low levels of gamma radiation Stark, and Jarvis, noted here were also found at the New Mexico site. We'll need to call in an expert before we start messing with the ERBM or its programming." He paused and gave Stark another stern look. "So no more _accidental_ ignition."

Stark's face smoothed out into an innocent, wide-eyed pout. "Hey, look, I don't have the hots for any attractive, buff Norse gods, so not a problem." He paused, winced and turned toward Thor. "Uh, no offense, Thor."

"None taken," the Asgardian nodded graciously, though his brow was furrowed in confusion.

Then Stark's face twisted thoughtfully. "Wait, isn't the world's foremost expert in gamma radiation now big, green, angry and hiding from anything with even a whiff of government stink?"

Stark really should not have that information but Phil decided not to feed the smug expression by pointing that out. "Yes. Which is why Agent Romanoff and I, along with Hellboy and Ms. Sherman, are going to convince him to join us."

"Hellboy? Really?"

"Yeah, because nobody suspects the giant red demon of carrying a badge." Hellboy's laugh boomed in the small room.

Next to him, Liz rolled her eyes and poked him into silence.

Phil ignored the byplay and flipped to the next items in the folder, thumbing through the handful of grainy photographs, a slight frown pull at the corners of his mouth. The dark haired man tugged at his memory, like maybe he'd once caught a fleeting glimpse and promptly forgot. The two blonds, however, were completely unfamiliar.

He picked up the few pictures the team had managed to find and looked up at the expectant faces.

"We did manage to get a handful of images from some surveillance cameras around Puente Antiguo. They’re not the best quality." Phil tossed the slick pages onto the table, watching them fan out as they slid down the surface. "Any ideas?"

He was surprised by the number of gasps from around the table.

Thor snagged a head shot of the dark haired man and breathed a sound full of heartbreak when he stared down at it. "Loki."

His friend, pale and thin lipped with shock, leaned against Thor's shoulder. The sadness and pain was sharp and palpable while both men looked at the photo.

"Loki?" Phil felt a little guilty interrupting the shared grief but couldn't hold back the surprise. "As in, the guy who tried to take over Asgard, kill you and destroy Puente Antiguo with a fire-breathing monster?"

"He's still my brother," Thor answered with a catch in his voice and a defensive set to his shoulders. Fandral just continued to stare at the picture.

"Right." Phil finally gave in to the urge to rub his temples for a couple of heartbeats before continuing with the next obvious question. "I thought he was dead?"

"As did we." Thor shuddered slightly and Fandral closed his eyes. "He fell into the endless aether. Even father did not believe he could survive."

The two Asgardians continued to look at the proof of Loki's survival with heavy mixture of surprise, grief and hope.

Apparently 'villain' had a different definition among the gods.

"Okay, the two of you will follow Loki's trail. As of two hours ago, it looks like he was heading to Vegas. Sitwell will act as tour guide but even you two probably won't stand out too much in that town."

Down the table, Sapien was stroking webbed fingers across the smooth surface of one of the photos, thin eye membranes open and closing rapidly. Next to him, Hellboy and Liz whispered in heated, hissing tone.

Phil cleared his throat until the agents looked up at him. "Problem?"

"No, no problem.” Liz answered with a shrug. “Just that these two are suppose to be dead, too."

And why was Phil surprised? No wonder Fury had ducked out of this. He wasn't sure if he needed a degree in psychology or a whip and a chair to deal with this group.

"Oh good, Zombie epidemic. I've been waiting for this. I'll have to get Jarvis to order me the handbook." Stark rubbed his hands together with glee.

Captain America frowned down at the pictures he could see. "They don't look like the zombies in _Shaun of the Dead._ "

Phil couldn't wait to get back to his office so he could take a handful of the aspirin waiting in his desk drawer. Then he'd have a long talk with the junior agent in charge of the Captain's cultural education.

"They’re not undead," Natasha, thankfully was explaining it. "Stark just thinks he's amusing."

The glare she shot the billionaire promised pain and had Stark squirming in his seat.

When the room was finally silent again, Phil looked back at the BPRD agents and decided Sherman was probably his best bet in getting a thorough and succinct answer.

"Who are they, exactly?"

"Uh, well, they were… are… elves."

"Elves?"

"Yep. The tall, violent kind. Not the cute, shoe-making kind," Hellboy jumped in.

Sherman elbowed him and pointed at the picture of the male blond. "Nuada. Prince of the Bethmoora Clan. To make a long story short, he didn't like what humans were doing to the earth or how they were taking over all the wild places that used to belong to the fey and the elementals. His plan was to unleash an army of golden, indestructible robots and let them destroy all of humanity."

She moved to the second close-up of the nearly identical female. "Nuala. His twin sister. They had some weird connection. If one got hurt, the other received an identical wound. She didn't agree with his philosophy of human extermination though and, in the end, she stopped him by committing suicide, which killed him as well."

Liz reached over, without looking and rested a hand on Sapien's arm. The fish-man's eye membranes blinked open and closed rapidly again but he leaned into the comforting touch. Obviously, there was more to the story. Phil decided to leave that wound until they had the elf-twins in hand. He'd deal with it when and if it became a problem.

"Okay. Myers, you Sapien and Captain America will be on standby until we get a better read on where the twins are going. Get them geared and ready to pull up and go as soon as we get word."

Phil looked around the room, a variety of emotions thrummed, each eager to get started for their own reasons.

"All right, if there are no more questions or pertinent details, let's move. I expect everyone to stay in touch and keep me apprised of any changes in the situation."

Everyone began moving at once, Myers joining the BPRD group when they headed for the door. Natasha a few steps behind followed by Thor, Fandral and Sitwell. Stark waved Darcy over and started shooting questions at her, rapid-fire, before she even had a chance to settle into the chair next to him.

A soft, unfamiliar sound made Phil look back to see Captain America standing but unnaturally still and staring.

"Captain America, is there something else I can do for you?" He knew his voice lacked the crispness it usually held but he couldn't help it.

The Captain started then smiled at Phil though it looked a little forced and confused. "Well, you can call me Steve. Or Rogers, if you prefer. I just, I'm going. Got lost in thought for a second."

"Okay, Steve. Good luck and keep me informed."

The smile eased a little and Cap—Rogers straightened. "Yes, sir."

 #

The hum had settled somewhat in Steve's ears, quieter but still a presence. He was beginning to notice it was directly affected by his proximity to the enigmatic Tony Stark.

Being attracted to a man wasn't new to him. He'd had a crush on Bucky for as long as he could remember, though he'd never admitted it to anyone. He'd only barely even admitted it to himself, back then. He'd learned though, that while the stigma and bigots still existed in this time and place, it was nothing like what he would have faced back then. Before.

But Stark was nothing like anyone he'd ever found himself attracted to, male or female. He was brash and arrogant, loud and sarcastic. Not that Tony wasn't attractive. Broad shoulders and a strong muscular body under his expensive suits, wool or iron. He may not have been the clean-cut straight-shooter Steve usually went for but there was something to be said for hand ruffled hair and three days of scruff.

It wasn't just Stark's good looks, either. When the humor wasn't sharp and vicious, he was amusing. And the man was very much a genius. Strong, smart and funny _had_ always been Steve's type. He just wasn't used to searching for it beneath the irreverence.

It was obvious, though, that there was more to the man than spoiled billionaire. He willingly put on the Iron Man suit and put his life on the line to help and protect. Steve couldn't help but understand and admire that. In the hours they'd been hanging around SHIELD HQ he'd heard things from some of the junior agents, who Coulson and Fury should really talk to about gossiping. Still, he’d learned about the strange glow under the man's crisp white shirt and his time in Afghanistan.

None of that explained the sudden and inexplicable attraction he'd felt for Tony, though. Steve had reacted almost instantly to the man. When he'd only seen the unkempt, brash, irreverent attitude. Well before he'd teased out the good traits the billionaire seemed determined to keep hidden behind sharp sarcasm and disdain.

It didn't explain the compulsion.

The need. To touch. The urge to get closer.

All through the briefing, he'd kept his hands under the table to hide the white knuckled fists he was making to resist the impulses. When Coulson had finally started getting into the details, it had been enough to distract him for a little while.

Now, though, everyone was filing out of the room to embark on their various missions. And Tony would be staying behind to untangle the science and computers that Steve doubted he'd ever understand. With Darcy.

The pretty brunette he was smiling at and talking softly to. Leaning close to her as she settled into the chair next to him. Smiling back at Tony. Leaning back into him.

Red tinged the edge of Steve's vision and anger beat inside his head. A growl welled up from somewhere deep and primal inside him and it was all he could do to swallow it back at the last second.

"Captain America, is there something else I can do for you?"

The sound of Agent Coulson brought him back from the edge of whatever wild place he'd been teetering on.

He blinked and shook his head slightly to clear it. His smile felt a little tight

"Well, you can call me Steve."

He wasn't sure he felt like Captain America anymore. The world had changed. The country had changed. He wasn't sure he was up to being the type of hero required for the 21st century. Then he remembered the agent was in charge of this mission and might not be comfortable with the familiarity of first names.

"Or Rogers, if you prefer." He realized the room was empty and the heat of a blush at being caught mooning started to creep up his neck. He ducked his head hoping to hide it. "I just, I'm going. Got lost in thought for a second."

"Okay, Steve. Good luck and keep me informed." And that was familiar. An order he understood. The blush retreated along with some of the tension.

"Yes, sir." He didn't salute but he did straighten to attention out of habit before making his way out the door.

Myers and the strange, fish-like man were talking quietly in the hall when he finally exited the briefing room.

"Captain America, it’s wonderful to finally meet you in person. My name is Abraham Sapien but please call me Abe." He held out a webbed hand and Steve shook without hesitation. The sensation was odd but not unpleasant.

"In person? Should I know you?"

"Ah, no. Not as such. But I was a big fan of your movies, once upon a time. My mentor, Professor Trevor Bruttenholm, had old copies of them he would play for me from time to time when he was feeling nostalgic."

"Oh. Those." The blush threatened again, Steve's face heating like a hotplate.

"Yes. Well. When you're trapped in an aquarium most of the time, they are an entertaining break from tedium." The skin on Abe's cheeks darkened slightly and Steve wondered if that was his version of an embarrassed blush. Then the man step closer, looking carefully to make sure no one was near as they made their way through the halls.

"Professor Broom was a contemporary of Dr. Erskine's. I may have some information that you do not. But we'd be better to find someplace more discreet to talk."

Then the blue man was walking two steps away, once again, asking one of the junior agents if they could arrange to have some more things sent over from the BRPD.

 #

Tony stared at the ERBM intently, pretending not to notice the Captain and his new entourage leave. Apparently a break in at some museum had Myers and the fish-guy all a-twitter. Somehow a stolen Celtic staff was just the clue they were waiting for to help them find the semi-evil Bobsey twins. Not that Tony had been eavesdropping or anything. He had more important things to do.

When he'd finished resolutely _not_ watching Rogers leave, Tony could at least breathe easier. The tension of pretending not to watch the enigmatic relic eased out of his shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief that he could finally stop trying to figure out the confounding, contradictory signals the man had been sending.

The handful of words Rogers had actually spoken to Tony were clipped and formal. His posture had been tight and ridiculously reserved, careful never to get closer than two feet. Like Tony had some kind of cooties that could jump that far and soil the perfect patriotic hero image or something.

But his eyes… Rogers had watched Tony. A lot. It wasn't angry or disappointed or in any way formal. It was curious and confused and something deeper, darker that Tony was pretty sure he was imagining. Every time Tony caught that look out of the corner of his eye, though, it made him shiver.

All that intensity focused on him was a delicious enigma.

Of course, he could just be projecting his own reaction onto Rogers. For all he knew, the Captain could just be trying to figure out if his Super Soldier Serum had given him the ability to burn through an object with his mind. It wouldn't be the first time someone had decided Tony was the perfect specimen for that kind of experiment.

Tony crossed his arms and forced thoughts of Rogers to the background. There was a crisis and he really didn't have time to decode Captain Moody's split personality.

Of course, having him gone was a little disappointing. He'd been the only pretty in the sterile, unimaginative lab. Unlike the monstrosity of steel and wires that was the ERBM. That thing was nearly as clunky and inelegant as the program that ran it.

According to Darcy, it had taken Foster and Selvig months to get as far as they had. It had only taken Tony a couple of hours to go through it, understand it and find a couple dozen ways to improve it. All in all, it had been functional but utilitarian and unremarkable. The only thing noteworthy had been the final update, which had been clumsier than usual. After the second, mostly successful test, it was no real surprise they'd rushed it.

Tony had not had enough time, yet, to absorb the research and calculations and the machine itself in order to put his finger on exactly why the relatively minor mistakes had ended in catastrophe.

He crossed his arms under the arc reactor glowing through the thin white cotton of his t-shirt and tried to glare the machine into revealing his secrets. He'd lost the jacket, shirt and tie, along with his shoes, hours ago. Some lackey or other had neatly folded them and tucked everything away in the far corner, along with his briefcase.

Behind him, Darcy fidgeted expectantly, pencil tapping an imprecise rhythm on her clipboard. It had been evident immediately that she could put her hands on whatever notes or files he needed in a matter of seconds but she could only answer the simplest of questions when it came to the experiments or research Foster and Selvig had been doing.

So Tony had relegated her to note-taking and gophering. And while his mind had been wandering in places it had no business trespassing in, she'd been standing behind him for fifteen minutes of silence.

He sighed, uncrossed his arms and ran a frustrated hand through his hair before turning around to frown at Darcy.

Glaring at her impatient tapping, he asked, "Am I keeping you from something?"

"A latte. A long, hot shower. An over-due nap. A marathon of shirtless Ryan Reynolds on Netflix. Pretty much anything and everything but watching you silently brood at an inanimate object."

"I am not brooding. I do not brood. I am thinking. That's what geniuses do. We actually use the available brain cells for important things. Not on deciding what color we're going to paint our nails next."

"Red. Maybe with little gold stripes in honor of you." Her answer was sharp and quick and actually made Tony's lip curl in appreciation. "Now if you could just share with me all the genius-y things your brain has come up with, then maybe I can get to that nap sometime soon."

Tony glared at her but her exasperated expression didn't change. Then he turned and snapped his fingers at one of the junior agents standing guard by the door.

"Hey. Hey you. Go get us a couple of lattes." He glanced back at Darcy's raised eyebrow and the tired lines around her eyes. "Make 'em venti with extra espresso."

"Mr. Stark, our orders are to guard the ERBM. We're not authorized to leave our post to fetch you coffee."

"Well then call someone who is authorized—" A soft thwap-thwap-thwap sound distracted him before his tantrum reached full volume. The sound of a helicopter. But the SHIELD building was restricted airspace.

He looked up in time to see something round and metallic drop onto the glass above them.

"What the—"

He saw the first helicopter, and the men descending from it, and dove at Darcy. He pushed her to the floor, covering her with his body seconds before the charge went off and rained glass down on them in glittering, skin shredding shrapnel.

When the pain of glass slicing skin ended, he ignored the dozen shallow cuts and looked around for his briefcase. Black-clad men rappelled down lines from the now three helicopters hovering above them. The chaos of alarms and invasion and responding SHIELD troops whirled into the middle of the room. A chaotic dance of bodies and weapons and mayhem directly between him and his suit.

Beneath him, Darcy was hyperventilating and still managing to babble between gasping breaths. "Oh my god. Ninjas. Nobody told me there'd be ninjas."

Tony rolled his eyes and dragged her to the nearest heavy duty metal desk, thankful now for SHIELDS 'industrial-chic' decor and shoved her underneath. Then swept the files scattered across the desktop onto the floor and pushed it all under with her.

"Stay here. Don't move until someone you recognize comes to get you."

She nodded and hugged her knees but the panic had receded and she seemed to focus on priorities. She reached out for the sharp-edged letter opener that had fallen along with the files and gripped it with a white knuckled, crazy-eyed glint that told him whoever fucked with her was at least going to regret it.

"Good. Stay put," he admonished one more time before standing up and assessing the chaos around him.

The invading force, all wearing the insignia of some weird octopus, had managed to seal off the only exit. And entrance. Which meant the SHIELD personnel that had first responded was all the help Tony was going to get for a while. And there still wasn't a clear path to his suitcase.

Stripping the shade off the heavy gauge steel desk lamp, he hefted it in one hand, wrapping the cord around the other. He was really going to have to take back his negative thoughts about Fury's interior designer. Functional and unimaginative was turning out to at least be multi-purpose. Desk-ware that doubled as weaponry was probably a good idea in a place like this.

He stuck to the walls, using computer stations and desks as cover while he moved toward the far corner and his brief case. The few men he encountered went down due to the swinging steel he wielded with deadly accuracy. Then he caught sight of two men, unnoticed by the others in the chaos, kneeling at the base of the ERBM. One held a reinforced box. The other was poking long heavy forceps between the machine's wires and frame.

The Tesseract. This wasn't some random attack on SHIELD. They were here for a power source that could rip open time and space.

Over Tony's dead body.

He prowled closer, trying to keep his approach unnoticed until he was close enough to use the lamp. A few more steps, and he'd be able to take out the first one before the second knew what was coming.

The sound of a door crashing open distracted him then something landed with a heavy thud across the base of his skull.

The lamp fell from numb fingers when Tony crumpled to the floor with red and black lights edging his vision.

"It's Stark. He could be useful. You, give me the cube. You, get him out of here."

As he faded out, he thought he heard is name, shouted by lips he'd been daydreaming about all day. Funny the kind of delusions one had before--


	2. Part Two

Part Two

When the car moved away from the SHIELD building, Steve was thankful for the relative solitude. Myer's was driving and Abe kept him company, leaving the silence of the back seat for him to stretch out, close his eyes and try to shed some of the tension of the last few hours.

So much going on, in him and around him, he felt like a tightly wound top just before someone pulled the string and sent him spiraling out of control. The inexplicable, undeniable draw of Stark. The chaos left in the wake of the ERBM malfunction. The decades old secret of Erskine's that Abe held. Steve wasn't sure he even wanted to know. The serum had changed his life, once. For the better, sure. But irrevocably and permanently. He had a feeling whatever knowledge Abe had about Steve, it was going to turn his life inside out, again.

The further they moved through the slow crawling Manhattan traffic, the more the buzzing faded. But instead of abating, Steve's anxiety kept ramping up until he was taut and constantly glancing out the back window. It shouldn't be this hard to leave. It should be a relief. He was away from the confusing situation with Ton… Stark. He was actually doing something. Or, at least, on his way to do something about the situation.

He tried to focus on the scenery instead. The sounds of traffic. The strangers rushing by in fashions he knew would take a while to get used to. The familiar classic architecture interspersed with the gleaming new buildings of steel and glass. The unfamiliar hum and shape of the sleek helicopters hovering in the skyline.

Hovering near the SHIELD building they were leaving behind. Steve twisted in his seat, dread already dropping heavy and uncomfortable in his gut. He saw the lines drop and tiny dots, presumably soldiers, sliding down. Disappearing into the lab. The lab where he'd left Tony.

Anxiety exploded into full-burning fear and fury.

"Stop the car!"

"What is it?" Abe asked but Myers was already nosing the car into cracks of traffic that would let them get out of the crush of bumper to bumper vehicles.

"Something’s wrong at HQ." He pointed up to the helicopters, now obscured by the angle of the car. "I have to get back there."

As soon as the car stopped, Steve had one hand on the handle, dragging his shield out with him. He got halfway out the door before Myers protested.

"Wait, we'll all go."

But Abe stopped squinting upward to look down at the picture he'd kept clutched in his hand since Coulson had first tossed it on the table. Then he tucked it away and nodded towards Myers.

"Yes, of course we will."

"No." Steve shook his head. There were a great many things he was unsure of, in this insane new century, but he’d always trusted his gut when it came to missions and it had always served him well. His instincts told him that getting to Nuala and Nuada was as important as getting back to SHIELD and he listened.

"No, your mission is necessary. I'm sure Director Fury has everything under control. He probably won't even need me, let alone all of us. I just… I have to… I need…"

Abe's piercing unblinking gaze slid right into him. "You have an overwhelming urge to return and protect some… thing?"

Tony. It hammered at his heart. His head. He wanted to protect SHIELD and Fury and the rest, of course. But he _needed_ to protect Tony.

"Yes." The single word, hoarse and tortured was all he could manage.

"Go, then." Abe said with an insistent shooing motion and Steve took off at a dead run. He moved away so fast, he barely heard Abe's shouted promise. "We will have that conversation as soon as we get back."

He was pretty sure he set a new personal best in the time it took him to run back to SHIELD.

The building was in chaos, teams and agents and support staff running every which way while red lights and deafening alarms blared for the second time in twenty-four hours. He managed to grab enough people to piece together a path to where Fury directed the defensive action at the entrance to the stairwell one floor down from the ERBM lab.

"We've got some men in there but the infiltrators managed to get a shooter in the stairwell with armor piercing rounds and he's picking off everyone we send up now." Fury told him between curses and orders. "Remind me to carve up the designer who decided not to give us a back door."

"Sir, let me lead a team up."

Fury glared at him with one eye but Steve just held up his shield until the Director's most ferocious smile replaced the angry scowl.

"Paulson, Diego! Form your teams up behind Rogers. You’re on his orders until you get through the door."

Steve pushed into the stairwell heart hammering with one, singular compulsion. Get. To. Tony.

The shield moved without any real thought, just instinct and experience put it where it needed to be to protect the men behind him. The pace was too slow, too deliberate, until, finally, one of the men behind them got an angle on the sniper and took the shot, ending the threat once and for all.

As soon as their path was free, Steve rushed up the stairs, barely hearing Diego call the all clear back to Fury before he left the teams in the dust. Two solid swings of his shield caved in the reinforced door to the lab.

His eyes scanned the room as he rushed in. Landed on Tony, still armorless and barefoot, wielding a lamp as his only weapon. The brief rush of relief turned to icy fear then white hot rage when he saw the bastard appear behind the billionaire and swing the butt of his rifle against the back of Tony's skull.

"Tony!"

He didn't even hear himself scream when time slowed and Tony dropped into a motionless heap on the ground. Didn't hear the snarls and growls ripping from his own throat as he threw himself into the fray and bulled through everything that stood between him and Tony.

 #

Phil sat in the surveillance van and watched three monitors at once. The cameras Sherman and Hellboy carried focused on the scruffy man they were covertly following through the crowded market streets. The argument about who would make the initial approach had been an interesting fight. Eventually, though, Hellboy had managed to convince Phil it should be him and Liz. At the top of his lungs and with a new dent in the side of the panel van.

The third monitor was the feed from Widow's camera. No matter what Hellboy thought, there was no way they were going to make contact without SHIELD somewhere nearby. Right now, Natasha's camera was focused on the odd pair while they tried to blend into the crowd around them. Sherman, in her jeans and t-shirt looked normal enough. Wouldn't exactly be taken for a local but could easily pass for a tourist.

Hellboy, on the other hand… The trench coat and world's largest fedora did their job, hiding the bright red flesh and filed down horns. But they stood out like a beacon screaming something here doesn't belong. Not to mention his sheer size. He looked like a walking wall dressed up for Halloween as a clichéd forties movie mobster.

Did. Not. Blend. In.

Considering that Banner had been leading them in ever widening circles for the past fifteen minutes, Phil was obviously not the only one who thought so. At least he was leading them away from the most populated areas of the city.

While Phil watched, Banner took a hard right down a blind alley.

"Fuck," Hellboy muttered and the video stream sped up as he hustled to get to the alley before the target disappeared completely.

Unfortunately, they were still too late.

The alley dead-ended a hundred feet in. And it was empty. Natasha got a vantage from the roof top while Sherman and Hellboy moved carefully down the alley checking each door and alcove. When they got to the far wall, the foreboding sound of rusty hinges whining in protest screeched over the feed, followed by the heavy clang of a metal gate slamming shut.

All three cameras turned to find an iron grate covering the mouth of the alley, Banner safely on the other side.

He gave a jaunty salute. "No offense but I know your type and I'm not interested."

He turned away and Phil's heart kicked up into a faster pattern while he contemplated his options. They couldn't lose Banner when they were so close but he didn't want to risk triggering a green incident, either.

"I'll take him now," Natasha murmured and the camera angle changed when she shifted to take the leap.

"No," Phil order calmly at the same time Hellboy shouted after Banner.

"Wait! We're not who you think we are."

"You’re not from some government agency sent to bring me back?"

"He's got you there, Red," Liz said.

"Not helping," he muttered shedding his coat and hat. Louder, he addressed Banner again. "Well, yes. But we're not exactly the same as the others you've met."

He moved back toward the gate. When he was under the single, small bare bulb illuminating a doorway near the mouth of the alley, he paused. Banner gasped and step back before catching himself.

"You're right about that. Who are you? Who do you work for?"

"The name’s Hellboy. This is my wife, Liz. How about a little more light, babe?"

She sauntered forward and grimaced at him. "I told you not to call me _babe._ "

Then she lifted her hand and let a small flame began to dance over her palm and across her fingers.

"We work for the BRPD." Hellboy lifted his head and raised his voice. "Hey, Romanoff! Introduce yourself."

The camera position froze and Phil was pretty sure she'd even stop breathing. "Go ahead, Agent Romanoff. I think he might have a handle on this."

The angle shifted, moving out farther over the alley. "Agent Natasha Romanoff. I work for SHIELD."

Banner nodded, looking more bemused than anything else, now. "I suppose you three aren't alone?"

"There's a lot of us surrounding the city. No one else in the vicinity," Hellboy promised, then he dropped his voice low enough that the mike picked it up but Banner wouldn't hear. "Don't make a liar outta' me, Coulson."

"Pulling back now." He gave a silent gesture at the tactical officer who glared but gave the order.

"So, what do you want from me?"

"It's kind of a long story."

"I'm betting I don't have a lot of time until your handler gets impatient."

Hellboy snorted. "Been a long time since anyone tried to _handle_ me. But, in a nutshell, her friends," he pointed up toward Natasha. "Were working with an alien artifact and got sucked into some kind of dimensional vortex. Or something. We need your help to get them back."

Banner gaped at Hellboy for a second. "Alien artifacts? Dimensional vortex? Not exactly my area of expertise."

"No. We already have those experts. But the artifact emits gamma radiation. You _are_ the expert at that. And they’re going to need your help to put it all back together."

"And what's in it for me? What happens to me once they get their people back and your alphabet soup has its hands on the freak?"

"You won't be the only freak in that room," Hellboy reminded him quietly. "We know what it’s like to be afraid, to not be able to get close to someone for fear of hurting them. Of not knowing who to trust. We know what it’s like to be looked at like a lab experiment waiting to happen. Or a weapon. We can relate to all that. I can't promise they won't try. All I can promise is they'll have to go through me to do it."

"Us," Liz added, stepping forward and let her hand become a pretty impressive fireball. "They'll have to get through _us_."

"Give him the pitch, Agent Romanoff." Phil murmured, then averted his eyes when Widow's camera went into a dizzying freefall before coming back into focus on a startled and wary Banner.

"SHIELD has always been more interested in people with unique skill sets. Lab rats and weapons are a dime a dozen." Natasha took a deep breath and let it hitch just a little before adding softly. "I know what it's like to live on the run. It's nice to be able to stay in the same place for a while."

"Very nice, Natasha. Too bad they don't give out Oscar's for espionage."

Phil knew she'd get even with him for that later but he couldn't resist. It was the kind of thing Barton would have said if he'd been there. He felt a hitch in his own breathing, one not feigned, and forced his attention back to the job.

"I'm not going to get out of the city without a problem, am I?" Banner asked with resignation

The camera jogged as Widow shrugged. "I think we'd all prefer it not come to that."

Banner squeezed his eyes closed before taking several seconds to stare at each of the three in turn.

"All right. I'll come with you. But I'm warning you, if I get angry, it's on you."

"Of course." Natasha said at the same time Hellboy jerked the gate completely free of its hinges with a single hand. "Just try not to do it while we're on the plane. Let's get out of here."

Phil allowed himself a soft smile. "The car's on its way."

 #

Steve was halfway across the room, a trail of broken and unconscious bodies in his wake when one of the men hefted a limp, unmoving Tony over his shoulder and hooked one of the dangling lines to his suit before starting to climb. A second, familiar looking man was already halfway to the ceiling, hampered in his climbing by the metal box in his hand. Any second, Tony was going to disappear up into one of those dark, waiting helicopters.

The growl that erupted from his throat was raw and feral and had even the fanatical HYDRA minions flinching from his path.

 A single, massive leap and he was next to the man holding Tony before he could get far up the line. The soldier tried to get a knife against his captive’s side, tried to spit out a warning to back off. But there was no reasoning with Steve now. His hand flashed out, breaking the man’s wrist with a single flick that sent the blade flying. Steve's hands went for the bastard’s throat but the rope went taut and began pulling him up when someone in the helicopter yanked it towards them. Forgetting everything but Tony, he reached, grabbed, tugged until the unconscious man was free of HYDRA's grasp and tumbling into Steve's waiting arms.

He turned, ready to fight off any danger and defend what was his. But the surviving HYDRA warriors were ascending rapidly to the helicopters as more SHIELD personnel poured through the door. Once safe, Steve sank to the floor, cradling Tony, limp and bleeding in a dozen places.

"Medic!" Panic made his voice nearly a shriek and later he'd be embarrassed by it. But, for now, he had only had room for one pressing thought. "I need a medic over here!"

He knew he should move away, let the medics do their work but couldn't do more than force himself to sit back and keep a steadying, reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder. He could still feel the man’s warmth and the faint throb of his pulse and it steadied Steve more than the doctor's reassurance.

Nothing distracted him from his consuming focus on the rise and fall of Tony's chest until Fury's voice boomed heavily behind him.

"Where the fuck is the Tesseract?"

He turned and blinked dazedly at the empty spot where the blue glow should have been.

 #

An electric thrum zipped through Loki, waking him from a deep, restful sleep.

He'd known, from the second his feet had landed in the New Mexico sand, it was only a matter of time before someone came after him. Whether it was the humans who'd tried to keep Thor from Mjolnir or Thor, himself, if the Asgardian found a way to come after him. Even with the bridge uncertain, he knew he had to be prepared to protect himself. He'd just been hoping to get a good night's sleep before he had to start planning and scheming.

But that thrum was an Asgardian stumbling, blind and unaware, through the delicate weave of magic Loki had layered as an early warning system around the hotel. Thor, no doubt. How his brother could be so absolutely heedless to the currents of power that trailed around the building, Loki would never understand.

Loki pressed his face into the soft pillowcase before rolling over and stretching across the decadent king size bed. A few illusions and mind-tricks in the casino downstairs had secured him both the human currency and good will to obtain the luxurious penthouse suite of the elegant hotel. Considering where he'd been living, it was a luxury he more than felt himself due.

Damn Thor for interrupting and forcing him to consider unpleasant strategies before he could really indulge himself. He'd intended to sleep long and soundly in the soft bed. Warm and ease himself in the Jacuzzi in the morning before lingering over an expansive feast for breakfast.

He hadn't even done anything, yet. Couldn't they have given him the benefit of the doubt before hounding him? Didn't they think a year in the land of the dead was enough punishment for past crimes?

Pushing out of bed, he quickly slipped into the dress pants and fine cotton shirt he'd… acquired… from a boutique in the hotel before braving the casino. His mind brushed over the dark magic covering both the door to the hallway and the glass door leading to the balcony. He really didn't like hurting people, not even his brother. Especially not his brother. But he'd been free for less than twenty-four hours and he doubted anyone else would see his confinement as sufficient punishment.

Once certain of his defenses, he moved into the bathroom and closed the door firmly. There was no point risking being caught in a backlash if Thor fought the magic too hard. With one longing glance at the six-head shower, Loki resolutely turned toward the mirror. With a negligent wave of his hand his tired, hollow-eyed reflection fogged over to be replaced with an image of the balcony door.

Shadows moved in the darkness beyond the glass and, a moment later, a blond mass of muscle and self-satisfaction filled the image. Loki laughed a little at his brother's arrogance when he reached out and tried the door. Did Thor really believe he wouldn't even take the precaution of locking the door, considering at least one of his pursuers could fly?

Thor frowned at the glass, then pursed his lips in resolve and hefted Mjolnir. Loki smirked in anticipation. His brother was so predictable. If the simplest solution didn't work, smash it into little bitty pieces.

The glass shattered with a protesting shriek, fragmenting it into a glittering wave of tiny pebbles and Thor rested the hammer on his shoulder with the smug look firmly back in place. At least, until he stepped through the empty frame of the door.

The invisible weave of dark magic appeared and came to life as soon as Asgardian skin touched it.

"NO!" Thor's roar rocked through the suite, probably shaking the entire city. "Loki, damn you. None of your tricks. Enough."

He continued to shout and swear as the magic writhed and wrapped its way around his body like a predatory snake. The more Thor struggled, the tighter it coiled until, in a matter of seconds, Loki's brother was completely encased, mummy-like, in the darkness. Even his deafening roars were silenced.

That's when Loki heard the shouting and the pounding from the suite's main door.

"Thor! Thor what's going on? Loki, Loki open."

The voice, familiar even muffled through the distance made Loki freeze. Fandral. With a wave of his hand, the scene in the mirror changed just in time to see the heavy security door finally splinter inward under the warrior's blow.

And, like, Thor, he barreled through without any thought to the danger that might be waiting inside. The dark magic began to twist itself up his body instantly, gaining speed when the blond fought harder in a sickening feedback loop. Loki found his hand on the bathroom door before self-preservation and reason kicked in again. If Fandral had made it to earth, Sif and the other two might be lurking as well.

He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers but did not remove them from the door handle. Thor's other groupies wouldn't have been able to show restraint any more than the first two victims of his magic. No, if they were here, they'd be through the doors already, as well. Quickly, he moved through the bedroom, slowing to slouch in the doorway and smirk at the blond Warrior One. The blackness covered him from shoulders to knees and was creeping farther with every thrashing move.

"Stop struggling."

"Go to hell, Loki. I will not go quietly."

Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "It grows and tightens with every move you make. If you are still it will cease covering you."

Fandral glared at him but stilled. He was the only one who had ever shown that kind of implicit trust in Loki. The only one who would listen first without demanding explanations and questioning his every motive. Even now, after everything, he showed a modicum of trust to at least give Loki the benefit of the doubt.

The curl of warm relief was quickly brushed away. There was too much on Loki, now, for the past to matter.

"What are you doing here, Loki?"

And there it was. The memories, the mistrust creeping back into the tight, darkening gaze.

Weariness and an aching loss whispered through him but Loki resolutely shoved it aside, keeping his voice cool and unconcerned.

"I _was_ trying to get some sleep but it seems that's out of the question for the time being."

"No, why are you here, in Midgard?"

Cool became ice, sharp edged and bitter when Loki answered. "Because a year in the land of the dead is more than enough. Even Las Vegas is more appealing than that."

Fandral's dark eyes flickered over Loki, looking for what, the Asgardian had no idea. Then he grimaced and asked, "Where is Thor? What have you done to him?"

Thor. Always Thor. Even coming back from the dead got him only a moment of regard before Fandral's attention turned back to Odin's golden boy. Loki let his own gaze rake over Fandral, the tight weave of magic only highlighted the sleek, athletic body. Too bad the warrior had only attention for Thor and every lady that crossed his path.

"Thor is in a similar situation. Except, of course, I couldn't stand to hear his whining voice so I didn't give him any hints."

The smile was quick and surprising and unexpectedly warm. "But you wanted to hear my voice, Loki?"

For a long heartbeat, he was speechless and disconcerted. Unwilling to get drawn into answering that question, especially since Fandral would probably prefer not to know the truth, all things considered, he ignored it.

"Why did the two of you come all the way here after me?"

The smiled twisted into a fierce frown.

"Loki, even you can't expect your return to Midgard, and the circumstances around it, would go unremarked? Thor and I were drawn here when the bridge unexpectedly activated. Then three of SHIELD's people disappeared in the mayhem you caused. Did you really think no one was going to care? Or come looking for answers?"

Loki frowned and shook his head. "That wasn't… I had no idea."

"So it was just a coincident you managed to…" Fandral's voice dropped a little as he searched for the right word. "Managed to escape when things went to hell and three people got sucked up into a bridge that wasn't supposed to be possible?"

His hand drifted to his pocket and the small mirror he'd managed to carry with him everywhere since he'd first learned to use it, even into death.

"I admit that we, I, engineered our escape. The rest, it was not part of the plan."

The lines around Fandral's mouth eased and the smile flickered faintly to life again, taking Loki by surprise. Then the blond lowered his eyes, glancing from under his lashes and spoke softly.

"Will you release me?" There was no wheedling or flirting or pouting in the tone, just a straight-forward question. Waiting for a straight-forward answer.

Loki's throat tightened, unwilling to speak and give away his sudden succumbing to emotion. Instead he dropped to his knees and placed his hand on the bindings, directly on the dark magic. In the center of Fandral's chest. Loki closed his eyes, trying to shut out the horrifying memory of seeing the ice spike impaling the warrior in Jotunheim. Of being too far away to help. Of feeling jealous that others were close enough and guilt for those dark thoughts.

On its heels, the bright and dark memories of setting the Destroyer loose in the pale desert town. In that moment, he'd had nearly no control at all.

He whispered a few meaningless words to cover the dark tangle of emotions twisting him. Fandral shivered under his hand at the momentary tightening when the black weaving started to recede back into itself.

Loki forced himself to bite back the 'I'm sorry' resting on the tip of his tongue. Especially, since he couldn't say for sure if he meant for today, for New Mexico, or for the entire mess he made in Asgard. Instead, he swallowed it and helped Fandral to his feet. Part of him wanted to think the warrior's hand lingered in his for a second too long but that was simply wishful thinking.

 Then Fandral met his eyes, held them with a deep seriousness that stopped the breath in Loki's chest.

"You have to let Thor go, now, you know."

Just like that the air rushed in again. Of course. As always, Thor came first. His lips curled when the warrior cast a concerned glance into the bedroom. Another thing Thor could have at a moment's noticed, if he paid attention. One more thing Loki could never even hope to have.

 Loki glared but Fandral's expression remained implacable. Unfortunately, he was also right. Loki hadn't been able to plan beyond getting back to Midgard. Now, having been found so easily, he knew he needed Thor if he didn't want to end up someplace even worse than the underworld he'd escaped.

With a sigh, he turned his back on Fandral, moved into the bedroom and bent over his brother. With a brush of his hand and a thought, the dark magic started to recede. As soon as the weave began to twist, he stood and took several steps back.

It wasn't enough.

The second his legs were free, Thor exploded upward with another glass-rattling roar. Loki tried to side-step his brother's charge but a huge, meaty hand snagged his arm and yanked him back. For the first time in his life, he felt a little tremble of fear at the fury glaring out of his brother's face. Not brother. They weren't brothers. Never had been. Which meant Thor no longer had reason to stay his hand against Loki. He lifted his chin, daring the thunder god to do his worse. Loki may be a lot of the things the Asgardians called him behind his back but he was no coward.

"Enough." Fandral pushed between them, a stern glare split evenly as he separated them. "The two of you have done enough to each other, and two worlds, in the name of your pride and your egos."

Thor growled and stepped back. Loki crossed his arms, held his place and did his best to look bored despite the heavy thumping of his heart in his chest. Fandral rolled his eyes but turned toward Thor first.

"You have grieved for Loki for a year. You and Odin both claimed to have forgiven him for his trespasses months ago."

"But Jane—"

"He says he has no idea what happened to Jane and the others."

Thor took a deep breath and the glance he gave Loki was full of doubt but also hope.

"And you believe him?" The question wasn't sarcastic. Just filled with curiosity and maybe a hint of hope.

Fandral smiled faintly and flicked his eyes toward Loki. "I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt."

Ignoring the twinge of warmth, Loki drew himself up and kept his face flat and disinterested. "Jane is missing?"

"Along with Dr. Selvig and an agent of SHIELD."

Loki tried hard not to wince at the mention of Selvig but the sharpening of Fandral's gaze made him think he might not have been completely successful.

"I swear, that was not intentional. Nor was the bridge bringing you two down to Midgard." He swallowed around the thickening sensation in his throat. Memories and fears and the need to flee tripping through him. "We were just trying to escape the land of death."

Fandral turned to face him completely. "Will you come back with us?"

Loki surprised himself when an automatic 'yes' tripped on his tongue before he pressed his lips thin to hold it back.

Refusing to look at Thor to see what his brother thought, he asked, "As a prisoner?"

"I honestly don't know. The humans think you're responsible, as well."

"It was an accident." He muttered, tired already of explaining himself, even though he hadn't actually explained anything at all.

"Isn't it always, with you, brother?" Thor's snark didn't have quite the same jagged anger but Loki stiffened anyway, ready barb on his tongue.

"Not all of us were born perfect, _brother_." He snarled the final word, twisted with the pain of all he'd lost when he discovered the truth of his parentage.

Fandral's hand dropped gently on his arm and squeezed. His breathing eased and it was all he could do _not_ to lean into the comfort of the touch.

"I said enough, you two," the warrior said with a soft sadness. Then he asked, "Will you come back with us willingly, Loki? Will you agree to help them get Jane and their people back?"

The anger bled out of Thor at the mention of his beloved's name, desperation and fear and need taking its place. Some of Loki's own anger and pain receded as well. Whatever they were now, they were brothers once.

"Yes, though I do not know how much help I will be, since I'm not quite sure what went wrong. I will try though." He pursed his lips. "I'll need the elves to figure it out, though."

Thor nod and stepped closer, though relaxed and at ease for the first time since entering the suite. "Others are already looking for them. We should go, now."

The two warriors moved toward the suite door, then looked back at him expectantly.

He covered his momentary need to gape by holding out his hands. "What, no restraints?"

Thor looked at him with the serious, thoughtful gaze that always seemed out of place on his impulsive brother's face.

"You have given your word, Loki. If that is not enough, then you are as hopeless as you've let others belief. I think you still have honor. Please don't prove me wrong."

Fandral smiled and nodded along in agreement and Loki rolled his eyes. Warriors. Too trusting for their own good. Of course, the warm feeling of relief he felt had nothing to do with their faith in him. He was just relieved not to be a prisoner.

Feral wolves couldn't make him change that story.

 #

John wasn't surprised that the local SHIELD agents were waiting on the tarmac when he and Abe landed in Texas. He was even less surprised by the sheepish looks or the way the agents didn't quite meet their eyes when they admitted that they'd lost track of the twins almost immediately after the museum theft.

"What, exactly, happened at the museum?" John asked slowly, trying to get specific details rather than another round of sketchy reports.

"Basic snatch and grab," McDonald said. "He bulled his way into the museum, somehow managed to smash a security glass case with only his fist, took the spear and left. He didn't bother trying for subtle, didn't try to hide from the cameras or any witnesses."

"Anyone hurt?"

"A security guard was knocked unconscious. He'll have a hell of a headache but he'll be fine."

Abe moved closer, focusing with furious attention on McDonald and his partner. "Was Nuala with him?"

"Not in the museum. According to an eyewitness, though, there was a blond woman waiting in the car he used for a getaway. At this point, we have to assume they're still together."

Abe nodded. Sadness, determination and resolve stiffened his posture.

"Do you have any idea where they went when they left the museum?"

"They took off before the first police car got on scene. The car described by the witness was found a few blocks away. No cameras in the area, no witnesses. They just vanished."

McDonald started talking about the steps they'd taken. Road block perimeter, searching cameras footage, checkpoints etc.

After a night of few surprises, Abe, quiet, polite, unassuming Abe, startled John by interrupting the man in mid-sentence without apology.

"Perfect. Keep up the excellent work. Agent Myers and I have a lead of our own to check into. Do you have a car for us?"

"Uh, yeah. There's an SUV waiting for you." McDonald said, pulling keys from his pocket and gesturing to the dark, non-descript vehicle. "If you give us a few minutes, we can put together a team to go with you."

Abe smiled, took the keys and handed them to John. "Not necessary. Our lead is a long-shot at best. You'll be better off focusing on what you're already doing."

He herded John toward the car before anyone could ask any more questions. Once John settled in the driver side he sat back and glanced at his frowning friend.

"Abe, you wanna' tell me what's going on? Because I don't remember anything about a lead."

"I will have one, in a moment," Abe murmured digging in the duffel bag he'd had delivered from the BRPD while they'd waited at SHIELD HQ. "Just drive, please. Oh, and disengage the vehicle tracking mechanism, as well."

John obliged, starting the car and heading out of the airport.

"Which way?" he asked when they reached the roadway.

"It doesn't matter for now. Just pick a direction and go." Abe finally sat up with a scrap of cloth and an electronic bug sweeper in his hands.

Once Abe had reassured himself the SUV was free of listening devices, John spoke up.

"Ready to talk about what's going on? I don't remember you being quite so paranoid."

"Yes, well, Manning taught us all a few hard lessons," he answered with a grimace.

He tucked the sweeper back in the bag and slumped back in the passenger seat, thumb idly stroking over the cloth in his hand.

"First, there are things the BPRD, and I, would rather SHIELD not know are possible. Second, I'm hoping to have a chance to talk to Nuala and Nuada before SHIELD descends and pushes Nuada into doing something violent and foolish."

John cleared his throat, tempted to let it lie, but had to point out the obvious. "I think you're forgetting, _I'm_ SHIELD now."

Abe's head snapped up and he turned in his seat to look at John with a stark, serious expression. "John, you will always be one of us."

John's teeth sank into his lip to keep the tightness in his throat from coming out as a pathetic, choked sound. Eventually, the grip of emotions eased and he felt comfortable speaking again.

"Okay. So how are we going to find the twins?"

"With this," he answered, holding up the small square of fabric in his hand.

"A handkerchief?"

"No. It's a piece of a shirt." Abe sighed and resumed stroking the fabric. "Before she… Before, when Nuala was staying with us, she started teaching me some of her people’s magic. This was part of the shirt Red was wearing when Nuada stabbed him."

"Okay."

"Because of the high energy emotion surrounding the wounding, a connection was forged between the fabric and the spear. I can use sympathetic magic to follow the connection."

"And since Nuada now has the spear, it will lead us right to him. And to Nuala."

"Precisely." He carefully laid the square on his knee and started rifling through the bag again.

John focused on the road while Abe did something arcane and mystical in the passenger seat with herbs and whispered nonsense words and complicated gestures.

"Turn right at the next intersection." Abe's voice, at a normal level and speaking normal words for the first time in ten minutes, startled John.

An hour later, the bright lights of the city were far behind them. After a couple of false turns, they found themselves on a bumpy, neglected road. The houses on it became fewer and farther between, the longer they traveled on it.

By the time Abe pointed to a dark, dilapidated farmhouse, it had been miles since they'd seen any signs of actual human habitation beyond fields and fences.

John pulled into the drive and shut off the engine but raised an eyebrow at Abe. Before he could say anything, though, the fish-man was out of the SUV and striding toward the unlit porch.

John followed but the door was hardly closed behind him when Nuada appeared on the steps.

The spear in his hand spun with dizzying speed and terrifying precision while he stood his ground and waited for the two agents to get closer. His face was implacable, his eyes were ice cold and promised death.

John automatically reached for his weapon while trying to catch up with Abe and stop him from doing anything stupid.

Then Nuala was out of the house and by her brother's side. A delicate hand on his arm had the spear stilling instantly. John and Abe both stopped in their tracks.

She ducked her head and stared at Nuada with pleading eyes. "You promised. No more unnecessary death."

His eyes locked on hers but John had no doubt Nuada was very aware of every movement and threat around him. The ice melted and warmth tinged with suspicion slid into the odd colored eyes. The spear shrank, sliding back into its sheath then Nuada stepped back on the porch, arms crossed and watching everything.

"Nuala," the name was a whisper and a prayer, wrenched out of Abe's lips with a soul-searing honesty.

"Abe." She flew down the steps with joyful abandon, the two of them wrapped around each other like two halves being rejoined into a perfect whole.

As they exchanged gentle, disbelieving touches and soft words, John turned away. He let himself watch Nuada in an attempt to give the reunited couple the illusion of privacy. Nuada continued to watch them for several more heartbeats, an expression that hinted at a smile stretched across his mouth. Then he turned to look at John and the frown was back, fierce and threatening.

Eventually, Abe spoke up again. "You have to come back with us. Both of you."

Tension crackled in the night, the spear flowed once again into Nuada's hand and he slid into a ready fighting stance.

"I will not be a prisoner. Or an experiment. I may have promised not to make war on humans again but I will still defend myself."

Abe kept his hand wrapped around Nuala's waist and John shook his head, stepping forward despite the threatening way Nuada shifted the spear in his grip.

"Do you really think Abe is going to let anything like that happen to her? And do you think she's going to let it happen to you?"

Nuada eased slightly and flicked a look at his hand, covered in deep gouges, most likely from the glass case at the museum. They all automatically looked toward Nuala's unmarred hand.

Nuada was the first to speak into the silence. "We are not… as we once were."

"Doubt it matters. You're still her brother. Family matters. Even to humans." He smirked and glanced at Abe. "And human-fish crosses."

Then he carefully re-holstered his weapon and held up his hands. "I can tell you they will probably insist on medical evaluations and guards until they feel you can be trusted. But you won't be a prisoner unless you do something to break that trust."

"You have that kind of power, to guarantee our safety and freedom?"

"I have enough." It would take some fast talking but Coulson trusted his instincts and would back him. Fury might bluster but he'd listen to Coulson.

Nuada inclined his head and the spear once again disappeared from sight. There was no doubt of his royal heritage as the elf regally strode down the stairs and the unlikely group piled into the SUV. Abe took the second row with Nuala, leaving the silent brooding half of the pair to sit up front with John.

Now that the danger was past, John noticed how gorgeous the twins were in their Otherworldly grace. And, oh, that was a bad idea. An inappropriate crush had gotten him sent to Antarctica once. His libido was just going to have to ignore how good looking Nuada was because he didn't even want to imagine what kind of trouble flirting with a prince of the fey could cause him.

 #

Sitting in front of a flickering gray fire, only the faintest of yellows and oranges hinting around its edge, was disconcerting to say the least. With expert efficiency, Clint skinned the second rodent thing he'd brought back from the day's hunting trip and resolutely ignored the creepy non-flames. Next to him, Jane put the first rodent on a spit and Selvig rambled about old tales while he tried to figure out exactly where they were.

Not far from where the bridge had drop them, they'd found a spacious cave with a narrow, easily defensible opening that made for perfect shelter. It even had a trickling stream running through a shallow alcove at the back. All in all they'd been fairly comfortable in the time they'd been there.

Time, of course, being relative here. The sky lightened a shade or two from time to time. Then it would darken again to an overcast gray. There was no night, no distinct morning. And even the periods between shades seemed arbitrary. They'd fallen into a rhythm of their own. They would explore in a new direction for what felt like an hour or so, then Clint would hunt some critter. They'd sit by the fire and cook while Selvig kept them entertain with myths and legends from his childhood. Then two would sleep while the third kept watch for a couple of hours. When everyone was awake, they'd start the pattern all over again.

Clint handed over the second critter. A glimpse of the bruises, a half-healed line of finger shaped purples, greens and yellows dotted his forearm. A souvenir of his last sparring match with Natasha. And another reminder of the odd way time affected them here.

The bruises hadn’t changed a bit since they got here. Same color, same size, same shape. Which wouldn't be that odd, considering they hadn't been there all that long. Except, he'd found this cave by falling into its opening. The same arm had been covered in bruises from shoulder to wrist where he'd landed on it. And they'd been gone after that first cat nap Clint had taken. Completely gone, while the original bruises had remained.

Then there were those brief rest periods they allowed themselves. It felt like two hours tops had passed, yet, when they woke up, they were as refreshed as if they'd gotten a full night's sleep. Thinking of it gave him a headache. He really didn't want to know why. Unlike Selvig, who seemed fascinated with their surroundings and intent on figuring it out.

"Some cultures believed the afterlife held no color," Selvig mused while adding another piece of wood to the fire. Then he shook his head with a frown. "But, of course, the only inhabitants of those worlds are formless shades."

He poked at the rodent Jane sat over the fire. "And everything here is definitely corporeal."

They'd seen an occasional group of people who definitely looked solid here and there in their exploration but all of seemed to prefer keeping to themselves. So far, no one had stayed still long enough for Selvig to inundate them with the questions he had.

Jane shivered despite the heat of the fire. "Don't talk about death or the afterlife or whatever. I don't want to think of an eternity here."

Clint thought of determined eyes and a resolute jaw pulling him out of more than one hopeless dead-end situation.

"Doesn't matter if we're in hell itself. If there's a way, Ph— SHIELD will move heaven and earth to get us back."

 #

A pounding head and a rolling stomach were not an unusual way for Tony to wake up. The lack stale vomit taste in his mouth and the missing smell of bourbon oozing out of his pours, however, was a puzzling turn of events. He kept his eyes tightly closed, trying to remember where he was and what he might have been drinking. Experience had taught him letting light hit his eyeballs inevitably made everything worse.

The throbbing of his skull was localized to a single, aching spot. Impact wound, then. And the nausea was probably from a concussion. As he focused around the pain, the attack on the ERBM lab came back to him bit by bit.

A sound from his side put Tony on alert but he kept still, kept his breathing the same. Not the bustling efficiency of a nurse. Nor the impatient brusqueness of a doctor. Just a soft shifting of position in the uncomfortable visitor chair.

Pepper, then. Or Happy. Depending on how long he'd been unconscious, possibly Rhodey. The list of people willing to sit bedside vigil for Tony Stark was depressingly short, considering how often he needed it.

He thought about continuing to feign sleep but figured he might as well get today's version of the 'when are you going to learn to be careful' lecture out of the way.

He let his eyes slit open and slide to the side. It took a minute for them to focus in the pale glow of early morning light but when they did, they immediately opened wide.

"Captain?" He thought it was a shout but his throat was a desert and his voice came out sounding like sandpaper on gravel.

The blond head, which had been drooping toward that perfectly sculpted chest, jerked up at the sound. Then he ducked it again, ears tinged pink as he stood up stiffly.

A panicky flutter kick Tony unexpectedly in his chest. He'd been awake thirty seconds, said one word and already scared away his only company. But Rogers was reaching for the water pitcher and pouring some into a plastic cup with a bendy straw sticking out of its top.

Then he carefully slipped one hand under Tony's head and lifted with a soft, steady pressure.

"You sound like hell, this will help." There was a spark of humor and a flash of concern in pale eyes when Rogers lifted the straw to Tony's lips.

Tony thought about arguing out of sheer perverseness but he didn't have the energy. Besides, the hand in his hair felt really good. While he sipped the cool soothing water, he wondered how much better it would feel if those long fingers curled more firmly into his skull. Tightened in his hair, pulled a little roughly, tugged their bodies closer.

Right. Not the time or the place or the person for those kind of thoughts.

Tony let go of the straw when his throat finally felt less raw. He lowered his lashes in case his vivid and inappropriate imagination was exposed in his eyes.

"Thanks."

Rogers carefully lowered Tony's head back onto his pillow. It was amazing how someone who could probably rip the arms off a bear could also be so incredibly gentle.

"How are you feeling?" Rogers asked, his voice tight and sounding uncertain and uncomfortable. "I should get the nurse, right? I'll get the nurse."

"Don't." Tony's eye's flashed open and his hand snagged the Captain's wrist. He let his finger curl around the warm flesh, felt the pulse under his fingertips. "Please, don't. They'll just poke and prod and ask annoying questions that will make my head hurt worse."

"Are you sure?" Rogers asked but his body was already easing back toward the chair, the tight, uncertain posture loosening and his heartbeat steadying.

"Yeah, I'm sure." With the hand not wrapped around the Captain's arm, he thumped his chest and smiled depreciatingly. "I've had worse."

The Captain shifted even closer to the bed, the fingers of his free hand started to reach toward Tony then curled tight and dropped back to his side.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, eyes glued to the glow with concern.

"The arc reactor? No. Did take about a year to get used to sleeping with a permanent night-light, though." He grinned, and finally got an answering smile from Rogers, albeit thin and still a little strained.

Of course, Tony never knew when to leave well enough alone and opened his mouth again. "The gaping wound in the back of my head and multitude of cuts, however…"

He realized right away it was a mistake and cut off the words too late. Rogers winced, the frown pushing darkly back to the surface and he shifted away, pulling his hand out of Tony's grip.

"Sorry," he whispered, ducking his chin and looking at the floor.

The reaction surprised Tony and he tried to lighten the strain in the room with his usual inappropriate humor. "Why? You're not the one who hit me, are you? 'Cause I know I can be annoying but I didn't think I was so bad I had to worry about pushing Captain Honor and Justice over the edge."

"Of course not. I wouldn't. You're not annoying."

Tony just raised an eyebrow and let his lips curl into a smirk.

"Well, you can be a little… overwhelming and unsettling at first." The tight frowned shifted slightly but the sadness continued to cloud the soft blue eyes. "I'm sorry because I didn't get back in time. I didn't stop them from hurting you."

Huh, hero complex in full force apparently. "Uh, I'm gonna' guess a concussion wasn't the only thing they had in mind for me."

"They were trying to take you with them." Again, he was talking more to his feet than to Tony.

"Yeah, so, since I'm still here, I'm going to have to disagree with you. You got here in plenty of time."

"They got away with the Tesseract, though. We, I, I didn't notice it was missing until after HYDRA was gone."

"Fuck." The Tesseract gone? That seriously sucked on multiple levels. "We have to get it back. It's the only thing that will power the ERBM."

"Yeah. Fury's already got people on trying to track down all HYDRA locations. We've found Banner, Loki and the twins, though, and everyone is on their way back in. The hope is, once we put all the bits and pieces of knowledge together, we'll be able to come up with something."

Before he could think of anything else to say, _You Shook Me All Night Long_ filled the small room at a blaring volume.

Cap looked at the small nightstand, picked up the vibrating black plastic and scowled down at it.

Apparently the WWII hero hadn't yet been introduced to the magic of smart phones. Or maybe it was AC/DC he found upsetting. Whichever, he handed the phone to Tony, face tinged red while carefully averting his eyes from the screen.

Oh, right. He never even noticed the photo attached to Pepper's number, anymore. Red hair spread out across a cream pillowcase, sleek body sprawled across Tony's bed covered only with a strategically placed sheet. He could see how it could embarrass a man from a more prudish time.

Or Pepper. If she knew he was still using it to identify her calls, she'd skin him. Of course, that really wasn't any different from how she would have reacted if she'd known he'd been using it before they broke up. With a grin, he thumbed over 'Answer' and lifted it to his ear.

"Pepper, sweetheart, to what do I owe this early morning wakeup call?"

He pulled the phone away almost immediately when her voice went hyper-sonic in his ear.

He took the eventual pause as his cue to speak. "Right, so even Fury spies for you, I should have known."

His flippancy set her off again and Tony smirked. He glanced at the stock still Captain America, now standing stiff and uncomfortable next to the bed. He rolled his eyes and threw his hand up in a 'what can you do' gesture but it didn't ease any of the sudden tension.

Pepper's tirade wound down and he split his attention back to his ex. "C'mon, Pep. You know I love you. I swear I wasn't looking for trouble, this time. I was minding my own business. It was totally unprovoked."

"Tony. I just worry about you." Her sad sigh let him know the worst of her panicked anger was over and he might be able to get a word in now.

"I know, love. I'm fine. Honest."

Movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Rogers moving stealthily toward the door. Not wanting to interrupt Pepper, Tony waved at the Captain but the hero resolutely ignored the motion as he walked out the door.

"God damn it," Tony muttered when the door whispered shut.

"Tony? Are you okay?"

Eyes closed in resignation, Tony nodded, though he knew Pepper couldn't see it. "Sure. Of course. Same as always."

"Tony…"

Yeah, nothing got by Pepper. "Remember when we broke up, you told me whatever I else I did, don't go back to my habit of falling for completely inappropriate people?"

The exhale in his ear was long and disappointed. "You promised to stay out of the Atlantic City strip clubs."

A surprised laugh rumbled up and nearly chokes him. Someone like Kytti Glitter would be so much easier.

"No. It's not like that. He's from a different—" Tony cut himself off before he said 'time.' Pepper's security clearance probably outranked his but he knew Fury wanted to keep as few people in that loop as possible. And Rogers shied away from all the attention. "He's from a different place. I'm pretty sure he's a hundred percent straight. Even if he's not, I'm not his type. He's all about truth, justice and the American way."

The silence sort of surprised him. Tony knew Pepper wouldn't even blink at the pronoun. She'd known him a long time. She'd seen all kinds come and go from his bed. A lot less since their break up, because now he actually knew how hollow playing the playboy could be.

"I think you have more in common than you think. You're all about the truth. In fact, you prefer to shock people with unvarnished honesty whenever you can. Considering the way you've risked you life, and my sanity, well, your version of justice might border on vengeance but you get the job done. And what's more American than innovative inventions and excessive pursuit of happiness?"

Laughter bubbled up in Tony's throat. Leave it to Pepper to throw his own warped perspective back at him when he was trying to wallow in self-pity. He doubted Captain America would see it the same way but he had said Tony wasn't annoying. Always a good start. And he hadn't pulled his hand out of Tony's right away.

Before he could consider exactly what that might mean or what, if anything, he should do about it, a fierce looking nurse bustled in. He tried to protest but she forced him to say good bye to Pepper with a burning glare then started poking and prodding and asking stupid questions.

 #

Steve felt like an idiot.

Behind him, the door to Tony's room closed with a soft click and he shuffled along the hallways of SHIELD HQ blindly. Eventually, he found the narrow room he'd been assigned and flopped down on the too short, too thin bed. He should have stayed in it after Agent Hill had shown it to him the night before.

But he hadn't been reacting sanely to anything since the moment he'd settled into Fury's office the previous morning. The moment when he'd first felt the buzz along his skin. The hum in his ears. Both sensations he now had no doubt had something, everything, to do with Tony Stark.

Whatever it was, it was an undeniable pull that left Steve helpless in its wake. He'd been mindless in the lab, completely single-minded in his need to get to Tony. He'd left a trail of unconscious and broken bodies in his wake when he'd rammed his way across the room. Then, after he'd eliminated the threat, he'd cradled the unconscious billionaire in his arms like a child would hold its most precious toy. He'd snarled, actually snarled, at the doctor who'd suggested he should rest in his own room rather than Tony's. Fury had arched an eyebrow and frowned but had waved the doctor off to Steve's relief. He had no idea why he felt compelled to reassure himself Tony was okay but he was pretty sure he would have fought even the Director for the privilege.

He had, however, given in to Agent Hill's soft suggestion that he might want to clean up a bit before he settled in. Realizing that waking up to a blood spattered Captain America might be a little unnerving, Steve had quietly followed Hill to his room assignment and cleaned up in record time.

Somehow, in the relief and intimacy of those first few moments of Tony waking up, Steve had forgotten the information he'd gleaned about Tony Stark, billionaire, in those hours of his vigil. At least the things the news reels had to say. Video clips. Whatever they were called in this age, Steve was still shocked about the details, and by the pure speculation and obvious gossip that past for news reports. The small, delicate tablet of plastic and glass had been one of the first things his twenty-first century tutor had taught him how to operate. Said it would answer most any question that came up while at the same time admonished him to not believe everything it said.

In the quiet moments when Tony had woken, had spoken to him and reached to keep him near, Steve had forgotten the rumors and innuendo regarding Tony and Miss Potts. Forgotten the speculation about their on-again, off-again romance. He'd only remembered the salacious hints and speculation about Tony's bisexuality and the hope it had given Steve that his infatuation might be returned.

Then the phone had rung. Well, blared something raunchy, loud and inappropriate. And that picture, risqué and embarrassing, had popped up. Had made it clear that the gossip blogger must have been right when she said Tony and his CEO were back on again in the romance department.

Steve had felt like he'd been burned and doused with cold water at the same time. The brief flicker of interest he'd thought he'd seen in those dark eyes had been no more than his own wishful thinking. Despite Tony's confused look and wave to stay, he'd had to escape before he did something embarrassing. Like burst into tears.

Or yank the dark haired man into a heart-stopping kiss.

Steve's body flushed hot and went hard at the thought of his hands in Tony's hair, on his skin. Of claiming his mouth and tasting him…

He sat bolt upright and pushed himself off the bed. There was no room to pace between the bed and the tiny bureau and the bathroom door. And Steve really needed to move. To burn the energy and the frustration out. Maybe a few hours in the gym would help him find his equilibrium.

The second he stepped outside his door, though, Steve's attention was drawn immediately to his right. A figure stood about halfway down the hall, a suit jacket flung over one shoulder and his back to Steve.

"Tony?"

The man turned around, thoughtful frown curling up into a welcoming smirk.

"Oh there you are. All these closets look the same. Did they really stick you in a room that isn't as long as you are tall?"

"It's really not that bad. I can lay down on the bed and everything."

He decided not to mention that his toes hung off a little. Since he hadn't actually slept there, it didn't matter. And neither one of them really needed the reminder of where he did sleep.

"You were looking for me?" Steve kept his voice neutral, hiding the eager greediness.

"Yeah, the doctors gave me a choice for lunch. Since I refuse to eat the gruel in the infirmary, I decided to go for what passes for fine dining in the commissary. But, you know what they say, misery loves company. So I thought I'd find you to share in the torture of liquid tuna fish and stale bread."

Spending more time with Tony probably wasn't going to help him but his stomach rumbled and Tony laughed. Not the sarcastic, brash laugh he used as a secondary armor. A real one, full of humor and warmth that made it all the way to his dark eyes.

"Yeah. Sure. But I think I'll skip the tuna. Dried out turkey that can be used as shoe leather is more my style."

The buzz became an electric tingle skating across every inch of skin when Tony laughed again and shifted closer to push him down the hall.

"On we go then, in search of sustenance and the finest dining Fury's willing to provide."

The walk to the commissary and the journey through the line of barely edible food was filled with more laughter and snarky observations. Eventually, only crumbs litter their plate and Tony sat back in the chair, gaze turning speculative as it roamed over Steve's face.

"So, why'd you run away so fast this morning? Didn't actually want to have to talk to me once I was awake?"

Steve had been dropping his head, intending to hide his face as best he could when he lied about his reasons, when the second part of the question hit him. Tony attempted to keep it light and filled with amusement but it wasn't the easy humor of their lunch. It was something darker and filled with self-doubt and self-depreciation.

"No. I like talking to you. I just thought you'd want some privacy to talk to your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Tony's eyes tightened and his mouth pressed into a confused line.

"Isn't that the right word anymore?" He tried to remember what else he'd read and heard. "Lover? Significant other?"

"Well, yeah. I mean girlfriend is the word. But she's not. Not anymore, anyway. We're just friends. Good friends. But… what made you think she was my girlfriend?"

Tony seemed a little unsettled and unhappy and Steve felt the emotions like a knife in his own heart. Obviously he'd touched on an unhealed wound. He hated the idea Tony might still be hurting over Miss Potts. Or, worse, pining.

"The, uh, song was suggestive. As was the picture." He could actually feel the heat rising in his cheeks at just the memory of the image. The damn serum made him a super soldier but hadn't fixed his tendency to blush at the drop of a hat.

Tony's face cleared and the smile was once again bright and warm with a hint of devilry. "Oh, that, I keep it just to annoy Pepper. She hasn't noticed yet, though. Once she does she will so make me pay. I was worried you might have been reading the gossip rags or something. Please don't ever read any of the things they say about me."

Steve blinked and, for the first time in his life, was glad he'd already been blushing so Tony wouldn't notice when the red deepened to scarlet. Instead of admitting that's exactly what he had done, he leaned back and forced his face into strict neutrality. "Oh?"

"Yeah, well, they always get it wrong. Sometimes, I make shit up. Start rumors that nobody in their right mind would ever believe just to see what they'll do. I'm not even surprised anymore when they actually print it."

A lump formed in his throat and Steve swallowed hard around it, trying to figure out how to ask if the rumors about his bisexuality were one of those things.

Before he could find the words, or the courage, Agent Coulson appeared behind Tony.

"Ah, here the two of you are. Funny. The doctor's were of the impression you were still suppose to be under observation."

"I am under observation. Steve here has been watching me the whole time."

"Tony! You said the doctor gave you a choice about lunch."

The billionaire actually had the grace to look sheepish for once. He ducked his head and lowered his lashes, dark eyes peeking out from underneath.

"Yeah, well the choice was gruel or broth. I wanted real food. Can you blame me? Besides, my head doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Tony…"

Coulson held up a hand and stopped him before he could begin lecturing Tony on the necessity of taking care of himself.

"As much fun as it is trying to explain the realities of life to Stark, we have a meeting to get to."

"Is everyone back with their fugitive du jour?" Tony asked, getting to his feet.

Steve watched him like a hawk but he didn't sway or show any signs of weakness or dizziness. Perhaps he was okay after all. Still, Steve couldn't help standing, as well, and placing his body close enough to help, just in case.

Coulson flicked a quick look over the two of them but his face remained impassive.

"Banner came back with us sort of willingly. He's fascinated by Hellboy. Thor and Fandral have Loki and their plane will be touching down any moment. Myers and Sapien are inbound with the twins and should be arriving shortly."

Relief coursed through Steve while they followed Coulson back to the briefing room. As much as he'd _known_ he had to get back to Tony, he'd felt guilty leaving Abe and Agent Myers on their own. Knowing they'd succeeded lifted a weight off his shoulders.


	3. Part Three

Part Three

Phil enjoyed the relative quiet of the briefing room while he waited for the rest of the teams to return. Ms. Sherman and Hellboy fought with silent looks and gestures over a handheld game. A few chairs down the conference table, Dr. Banner intently studied the files he'd been given. Fury stood behind Phil, back to the rest of the room while he stared broodingly out the window.

In fact, the only noise in the room came from the quiet conversation between Stark and Captain America. Phil wasn't frowning at them but he wanted to. Fury had warned him something odd was going on between the two but he hadn't believed it. Not until he'd found them in the commissary and felt the tension rolling between them.

He was going to have to have a talk with Stark and remind him the Captain didn't have any experience with 21st century playboys.

Rogers laughed softly and Stark smirked playfully before he leaned in and touched the Captain's shoulder. For a second, the expression reminded Phil of another, familiar sly smile. One he'd never expected to miss. Ignoring the tight, hollow feeling filling his gut, Phil rolled his shoulders and promised himself he'd definitely have that conversation with Stark.

Soon.

The door opened and Thor stood filling the space. Phil heard Fury turn around to face the room, ready to finally begin. The god stepped aside and allowed the dark haired man to enter, followed by Fandral.

Phil remained absolutely still but he could practically feel Fury's blood pressure rising behind him at the sight of Loki walking freely and taking his seat between the Thor and Fandral with nary a shackle or restraint in sight.

Fury's anger was in no way ameliorated by the quiet timbre of his voice when he spoke through clenched teeth.

"So glad you successfully completed your mission, Odinson. However, here on Earth, we generally do not bring fugitives into a secure facility without some form of restraints."

Loki scowled but Thor was already on his feet, a beefy hand resting protectively on a thin shoulder and his body angling itself between Fury and his brother.

"Loki agreed to return of his own free will. He has given his word to help in every way possible."

Considering the way he was grinding them, it would be a miracle if the Director had any teeth left by the end of the meeting. "So you're saying he had nothing to do with what happened in the ERBM lab yesterday?"

Thor's indignation faded and Loki smiled, leaning confidently back in his chair.

"I wouldn't say 'nothing,' precisely."

Fury was right up against Phil's shoulder, arms crossed and frighteningly still. "What, precisely, would you say was your role in that clusterfuck?"

Loki sighed and clasped his hands together. "In order to explain that, you have to understand where we were. After my fall, which, blessedly, I have no memory of, I woke up on a world that has as many names as there are cultures and species to name it. All the names, though, mean the same thing. It is the land of the dead. It stands outside of time and the common dimensions and, on it, the gifts of magic ebb and flow with little rhyme or reason."

Phil stiffened in place, cold fear creeping through him when Loki called it the land of the dead. He was both thankful and resigned to the answer when Fury asked the question that was frozen on his tongue.

"Are you telling me that our people have gone there? That they are dead?"

"I believe that is most likely where they are. And, no, I do not believe they are dead. At least, not in the sense you mean. As you can see, I am not dead. Neither are Nuala or Nuada."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "It is a world that exists without any reliable access to normal dimensions. When any who possess magic experience a traumatic or violent physical death, the magic is sometimes released in a single burst. That power can open a temporary rift which transports the being to that realm. Often the bodies and souls are resurrected, though and previous bonds, geas or curses are broken."

Loki's mouth thinned into a thoughtful line, a light of realization sparked in his eyes but it was gone in a heartbeat and he was continuing.

"It is, in essence more of a rebirth than death. But it is nearly impossible to escape once one arrives there."

"So how did you and your friends manage?" The Director's tone had smoothed out. Anger, ever present in Nick Fury, still underscored it but curiosity had edged its way in.

"I was in the land of the dead and my magic may have been inhibited by that place, but I still had my brain and a mirror with which to reach other worlds. I knew Jane and Thor would begin immediately trying to get back to each other. That would require finding a way to recreate the Bifrost. I had no connection to Jane but Eric Selvig is one of our own."

"One of your own?" Phil asked, already calculating how to contain a security breach that involved Norse gods. Would they now have to update background checks to include allegiances to ancient, nearly forgotten pantheons?

"His ancestors were the Norsemen," Thor answered, a wide, satisfied smile stretching his lips. "With whom we shared many noble battles and even more glorious victory celebrations. Many of their descendants still carry the blood of Asgard in their veins."

"It took most of the energy and focus I could call on in order to reach him. I used the connection to influence him and nudge their experiments in the direction I wanted them to go."

"Influence him?" Fury asked with a low dangerous rumble. "Or control him?"

"Full control would have required a great deal more magic than I was able to muster. And, among other things, my rebirth in the land of the dead uncovered a conscience in me that had long lain dormant."

Sorrow darkened the sharp features for a brief moment. Thor and Fandral reached from either side to grip the thin god's shoulders with reassurance and warmth. Phil knew Loki was a trickster god but that flash of pain and confusion and regret seemed very real.

"All I did, all I could do, was _push_ him toward certain ideas. Convince him to take chances with his machine that would open a bridge then nudge him to forget what he had done. We were waiting, Nuala, Nuada and I. Once the bridge was active, the three of us combined are magic to pull it off course, to us. We had no idea it would connect with Asgard first and bring Thor and Fandral to Midgard. Nor did we expect it to take three of your people."

"Two months." Stark shouted and leaned forward in his seat. Phil was surprised the billionaire had remained as quiet as he had for as long as he had. "Two months ago is when you started messing with Selvig right? Before that, his work had been pedantic and occasionally redundant but passable. Two months ago was when it started getting sloppy."

"It was also when they had the breakthrough that led to the first full-scale test of the communication function of the ERBM," Phil added thoughtfully.

"Time is a little harder to determine where we were but that sounds about right. When the Bifrost engaged, the elves and I managed to combine our magic in order to _bend_ the bridge in our direction. The rest, well, you know what happened after we arrived."

"Why?" This time it was Captain America who asked. "You'd been there a year or so. Why wait ten months to start trying to escape?"

This time, when Loki paled and closed his eyes, Phil had no doubt that the haunted, horrified look was real.

"In a way, it was a relief to consider myself dead. I had made many mistakes. I had hurt those whose respect I most wanted to earn. I no longer had to fight the anger and the jealousy that had twisted inside me. I did not have to dwell on the fact that I was no longer, never had been, Odinson."

"Not true, brother. Father admitted his deceit but also swore you were always the son of his heart if not his blood. The memorial bears the name Loki Odinson and none has gainsaid it."

"There is a memorial, even after…"

"This is sweet," Fury interrupted. "But perhaps we could get to the touching family reunion once we figure out how we got to where we are and how we are going to get our people back. Not to mention the Tesseract."

The rawness receded behind Loki's cool, impassive mask once again. "Needless to say, my first few months in the land of the dead, I cared very little about anyone or anything. I had met Nuada and Nuala on my first days there and we began to travel together. Dead or not, the world is filled with occasional dangers and traveling in a group is safer."

He paused, brow pinching as Loki considered his words.

"There is a rumor about the Well of Dreams. Some say it is they to torment the damned. Some say it is a natural part of the landscape, all that magic, all the broken hopes and dreams draining into it. Whoever looks into it will see an image of the future that could be changed if only they could escape back to their world. Sometimes it is their greatest hope fulfilled. Sometimes it is their greatest fear realized. Either way, once it is seen, it cannot be unseen. To know you could make something beautiful happen, if only you were there. Or you could stop something cataclysmic, if only you hadn't ended up in a prison of eternity."

Loki shuddered and swallowed hard. Fandral squeezed the hand still on the smaller god's shoulder and Loki leaned into it.

"You saw something in the Well." The Captain spoke softly, with compassion and certainty. "Something of the cataclysmic kind. And you fought to return to change it."

"Yes." Loki barely whispered then straightened, easing away from both Fandral and his brother while he wrapped that air of confidence and disdain around him. Phil was beginning to realize it was as much armor as the arrogant self-importance he tried to make people see.

"Yes. We saw a madman with the Tesseract in his hands. He believed he could absorb the power of the Tesseract with his body and become both a god and a demon. Instead, of course, the power consumed him, making him a living bridge between Asgard and the demon realms. A bridge that passed right through Midgard. In the vision, the demons destroyed Asgard first, feasting on the power of the gods. I watched…"

Tears sprang to his eyes but did not fall.

"What I saw happen to everyone I knew was horrific. Then they turned their sights to earth. The fey and magical creatures were their prey and their toys. Sources of power and amusement. Humanity became a race of slaves and the earth became a wasteland."

Phil sorted through the most recent intel file until he found the picture he was looking for. Flipping it around, he asked, "Is this the madman?"

Loki nodded but Roger's was leaning forward to stare at it, as well.

"That was one of the men from last night. He looked familiar but I, uh, I was too distracted to wonder why."

Phil set the picture on the table and resolutely ignored the way his childhood hero was blushing and trying hard not to look at Stark.

"His name is Gunnar Schmidt. He claims to be the grandson of Johann Schmidt. He came out of nowhere about ten years ago and took over HYDRA. His entire purpose seems to be recreating the process his grandfather used to become Red Skull. Apparently he has visions of being super-human and ruling the world. What you saw in the Well fits right in with his goals and methods."

Captain America made a slight choking sound but Fury was vibrating with anger next to Phil.

"And by coming back here, you led him right to the Tesseract. Right to the power to destroy the world."

"No." Stark didn't shout but the word was full of power and conviction as he pushed out of his chair. "He didn't lead them to anything. That was all SHIELD, with its arrogance and its 'we know better than anyone else' attitude.

He slammed his hands on the table and leaned forward to glare at Fury and his voice began to rise into a shout with every word.

"You assumed since no one knew what you had, the energy disturbance would be meaningless and ignored. But I noticed it. I did my own research. HYDRA had that little blue cube thing for a while during WWII. No doubt, someone, somewhere held onto the notes."

Phil rarely agreed with anything Stark said but the man had a point. Fury had assured everyone from the Council down that he had a handle on the Tesseract. But maybe that was only wishful thinking.

"I'm sure they noticed when you did the first test in New Mexico. They probably started making plans then. Then you moved it and the second test in New York told them its new location. They were just waiting for the third test to make sure you hadn't moved it again. It was too quick and too well prepared to have been from what Loki did. It wasn't the bridge that drew them or they'd have split between here and New Mexico. It was the initial surge from the Tesseract they were monitoring. And that's all on you, Fury."

Before the Director could explode from the sheer pressure building under the not so calm exterior, the door slid open and the final additions to their group returned.

Myers first, then Abe Sapien, solicitously guiding Nuala to a seat. Finally, Nuada, as unrestrained as Loki and still carrying his stolen spear leaned against the wall behind his sister. He looked casual and relaxed but there was no doubt from anyone in the room he was ready to strike at any perceived threat.

 #

"Hey, look. It's Drizzt." Hellboy glared at the elf and shifted slightly to guard Liz.

"I have not missed you, either, demon-spawn."

Tony took a deep breath while the non-human's snarled at each other and let the anger-spiked tension leach out of him. He blinked down at his wrist where long, graceful fingers were wrapped, a careful thumb stroking soothingly along his skin.

Huh. When he looked at the Captain's face, the hero didn't even seem to realize what he was doing. His eyes were sliding between the snark fest at the end of the table and the Director's nearly apoplectic face as Fury stared at Nuada.

Tony smirked and sat down, carefully not disturbing the hand or the fingers still stroking him. He was going to get to the bottom of that later. For now, he was going to enjoy the show. It was always fun when Fury wasn't directing that infamous temper at him.

"Would someone please tell me why yet another dangerous fugitive is not only unrestrained but armed? In a high-security, top-secret facility?"

The room went still and silent.

Myers stepped closer to the table, hands behind his back and face completely bland.

"Sir. They are necessary to the current mission. They agreed to return of their own free will if they were promised neither would be treated as a prisoner or an experiment."

"And you felt it was in your authority to make that promise?"

"Yes, sir. It is not the first time I have had to make the decision to turn a target into an asset." Myers shifted his head in a brief nod toward Coulson. "I was given that authority after my second assignment with SHIELD."

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose and Tony was pretty sure he heard him mumble something about the world being against him.

"Very true, Agent Myers. But as Director of this agency, I have the discretion to revoke those bargains if I feel it's in the best interests of the agency."

Nuada pushed away from the wall, spear at the ready. Then Hellboy was on his feet, big ass gun up and leveled. Rogers tightened his grip on Tony's wrist and Natasha suddenly had two knives in hands that had been empty an eye-blink before.

The three Asgardians just looked confused by the sudden tension, Bruce pushed his chair away from the direct line of fire and Tony settled back into his seat with a smirk, wishing he had popcorn for the show.

Sapien stood up and Tony idly wondered if he could get specs on the breathing apparatus. The poor guy deserved something a little more stylish than wandering around with a toilet seat on his neck.

"Director Fury, I believe you are in error. As they are neither a superhuman nor an alien threat, I believe they fall under the purview of the BPRD. If you prefer, we can remove them from your facility and return them to our own headquarters."

"Are you threatening to take your toys and go home if you don't get your own way?"

Tony wished he could get away with that wide eyed innocent look. He didn't think he could pull off the blue or the scales though and without the whole picture it probably wouldn't be as effective, anyway.

"I am just saying they were made a promise by the BRPD, as well, and you have no authority to revoke that."

"Fine. But Myers, he is your responsibility for the foreseeable future. Do not let him out of your sight for a second, you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Nuada sheathed the spear and stepped forward, his hands resting calmly at his side and glowing eyes touching on everyone in the room before he spoke.

"I am no longer a threat to any of you. Or to humanity. My sister was willing to die to protect you." His eyes flicked toward Hellboy and Liz before drifting over to Abe and finally addressing Fury again. "She has had years in the land of the dead to explain to me why I was wrong."

Red snorted and holstered his gun. "Oh, I know that lecture."

Liz elbowed him and the tension in the room eased into something less electrified.

After that, the rest of the meeting was boring, although it did take Rogers ten minutes to realize he was still practically holding Tony's hand. He dropped it like a hot potato but the hooded look and red hot blush were totally worth it as far as Tony was concerned.

Unfortunately, while they could theorize and strategize all they wanted, nothing could be done until Fury's agents pinned done at least a probable location for the new HYDRA's hiding place. Soon they were all yawning and there was talk of Agent Hill finding quarters for all of them to rest.

"Oh, hell, no. I saw the torture devices that pass for beds in your closet-sized bedrooms. I'd barely fit, let alone the giants you've surrounded me with. I'm going back to my nice comfy bed in my brand new building."

Then, as happened way too many times in his life, his mouth took over before his brain could kick it into submission.

"It's still partially under construction but I have guest suites available that are way better than anything here. You should all come. It'll be like a sleepover."

His eyes alighted on the Captain when he said it and, if the shocked looked in those pale eyes was anything to go by, exactly what kind of sleepover Tony was hoping for must have been obvious in his own expression.

It was his turned to be surprised when the shock turned into a warm smile and Rogers, Steve, was the first one to agree.

"Yes. Thank you. That is a generous offer and I'll admit the beds here are a bit on the small side."

 #

There were moments when Clint felt like he was in Wonderland. Nothing ever quite made sense until, well, until it all made sense.

He stared at the circular rough-hewn stone wall in front of him. Selvig had talked about the Well of Dreams during one of his campfire rambles. A pool to torture or bless depending on the culture describing it. It showed the maybes and might bes and could have beens. The good and the bad. All of it tantalizingly out of reach for the poor souls trapped… wherever it was they'd ended up.

The others were back at the cave while Clint was hunting. He'd followed the pale deer-like creature down a new path, carefully noting landmarks so he could find his way back. And it led him here. He should have remembered, from Selvig's stories that a white doe was always trouble, of one kind or another.

So now Clint had a choice. He could look in the Well. Could see what he might never be able to bring about and live with the knowledge. Or he could walk away. And wonder forever what he could've had, if only he'd known.

The thing was. The first choice only had a downside if they never got rescued. He had no idea how long they'd been stuck in the gray wasteland. But the sure, definite knowledge someone was coming for them was what had kept him going so far. Giving up that faith would be the worst kind of hell.

"Fuck it."

He carefully set his bow and quiver on the ground and stepped up to the wall. With a steadying breath he looked down into the still waters to see his future.

 #

Loki carefully flicked through the brand new clothing hanging in the closet. Along with a place to stay, Stark had arranged for someone on his staff to supply a more appropriate wardrobe for the alien refugees. He didn't know much about Midgard fashion but the fabrics were fine and luxurious. Silks and linen, light wool and soft fine, woven cotton. Not unlike the expensive suit he'd acquired in Las Vegas. He plucked at his once crisp shirt, now limp and rumpled and sticking to his skin.

Grabbing a pair of khaki linen pants and a soft white cotton shirt, he headed for the bathroom intent on feeling civilized again. Cool marble, sparkling stainless steel and thick towels greeted him in the spacious chamber. Like the bedroom it managed to combine function, luxury and comfort in all its bright, shiny newness. Tony Stark might be brash, conceited and overly impressed with himself but the man knew how to treat a guest.

Once clean and refreshed, Loki was contemplating the large bed. Three, booming knocks echoed through the suite and interrupted his plans. With a deep sigh, he padded across the soft carpet and resigned himself to what was to come. He'd expected it, of course. He'd just been hoping he could get a couple of hours of sleep before he had to deal with his brother.

As soon as he swung the door open, Thor walked in, filling even the generous sitting room with his ridiculous size.

Loki's lips pinched into a frown and his voice went flat. "Yes, brother. Welcome, do come in."

Fandral, at least, had the grace to duck his head in sheepish acknowledgment of the breach of etiquette when he crossed the threshold to stand next to his friend. Loki just quietly closed the door behind them, hoping to keep the coming argument as discreet as possible.

Like Loki, both men had taken the time to clean up and change. It wasn't really a surprise they'd both chosen t-shirts and jeans over the finer items Stark had made available. Thor, as usual, bulged out of everything, like a human ad for steroids. Fandral, however, with his sleek muscles and strong body looked more like the models on the magazines that had been artfully scattered over the coffee table of the Las Vegas hotel room. It took Loki a second to realize that Fandral was looking him over with a faint frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.

The contrast made Loki very aware the loose fitting clothing he'd chosen did nothing to hide the fact that his always too-thin frame had gotten even thinner over the past year. He wanted to cross his arms and hide.

Instead, he tossed back his head and sneered. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

Thor's eyes became puppy dog sad at the sharp anger vibrating in his tone. All wide and wounded and Loki hated it. Hated that his brother could make him feel like a petulant child with a mere look. Hated it because he knew that's exactly how he was acting. Hated it because he knew he deserved the coming recriminations. Hated it because admitting his own mistakes was something Loki had spent a lifetime avoiding.

"I have accepted your word that you would do all in your power to help rescue my Jane and the others. I do not doubt you. But I need to understand… before. How did I wrong you so? What did I do that pushed you to the point of nearly killing us all?"

"If I had wanted you dead, you would be."

There was no anger in the words, nor arrogance. Just a promise and confidence that it would have been so.

Fandral shifted a step closer to Loki but then took in the stark unbroken gaze between the two brothers and settled into a chair, out of the way instead.

Thor inhaled, his chest swelling impossibly before he carefully released his breath.

"Loki. You allowed the Jotun into the midst of Asgard. Twice. You lied to me about our father. You unleashed the Destroyer on an innocent town in order to get to me. How can you say you didn't want us dead?"

His skin, already cool by nature, felt like ice, with every stark truth that Thor spoke. And it was true. It was all true. All of that had been Loki's fault.

How could explain how it had started? Or how quickly control had spiraled out of his hands.

The only place to start was at the beginning. "I was angry when father decided to name you heir. Angry and bitterly jealous."

Oh, how the jealousy had eaten at him. Thor had always been first in the heart of their father. First in the hearts of their people. First in the heart of… Loki's eyes drifted to Fandral, watching intently from his chair, before jerking his gaze back to Thor… First in the hearts of their friends.

"I was jealous and angry he was choosing you over me. I thought it would be amusing to allow them in, allow them to interrupt your perfect day." He swallowed hard, fighting the grief and remorse and raw scraping edges of regret. "I thought they would be stopped immediately. That they would be weak on Asgard's home ground. I never thought, I swear I never imagined any of ours would be hurt."

His throat burned and his eyes stung with the effort to hold himself steady and keep the emotions well buried. A soft, sympathetic sound from Fandral's corner and an embarrassed tuck of Thor's chin told him he wasn't as inscrutable as he normally strove to be.

"I believe you, brother."

And somehow that hurt worse. The blind faith, the trust of his supposed sibling even after… It twisted like the burning ice in his veins, in his mind, when Laufey had gotten hold of him.

"Do not be so quick with your understanding, _brother._ " The hurt and guilt coiled and twisted in him, pushing the word out with a derisive disdain. "It was still my choice, my fault. My arrogance and my conceit that I was so much better opened me up. Gave Laufey a gateway into my mind and into my soul. Since he was already in my blood."

The bitterness and self-loathing oozed through him and he sank onto the couch.

"I thought I was being so clever, that I could open a portal with my mirror magic and no one would know it was me. But Laufey knew. My blood called to his. And when we went to Jotunheim, when he saw what I was, he wormed his way into my mind. That was really why he was willing to let us leave without a fight. He'd already started to take control of me. He was my Patriarch."

Loki spit the word out, the taste of it burnt and decayed on his lips. There was no way to explain how simply sharing blood with the ice giant had linked them, had given Laufey control of his mind, his emotions, his actions. How the monster had twisted and turned his every thought until he believed they were all his own. Until he became the monster.

"I didn't know," he whispered. "I couldn't see the way he used my own darkest thoughts against me. Not until fath— not until Odin told me the truth of my lineage. Then I could see it. I had learned enough in my studies to know what he was capable of making me do. And that if I fought him, I would lose. My sanity for sure, my life possibly. But even worse, if he wrenched control of my mind and actions completely away from me when I held the crown of Asgard, there would be no hope for any of us."

Loki paused to swallow some of the guilt and helpless feeling.

"So, I waited, and I played along and I carefully sealed away a corner of my mind to plot against my _father_. I let him think he had won."

The memory of what happened next, what he'd allowed to happen through his presumption, was burned into his soul like a brand.

"When he… when I sent the Destroyer, I did not think you would face it. In your weakened condition I thought you would do the prudent thing. I should have known better. That was the first time I defied him. That was the first time I realized that I could not. I tried to make it turn away and it was like nothing for him to brush away my will. To take control and turn it back full force on you."

Loki forced himself to look at Thor, braced for the anger and accusation but nothing of what he felt was showing. No rage, no hurt, but no forgiveness or understanding, either.

"I knew then the only way to save us, to free myself, was to destroy Laufey. But I could not do that anywhere but Asgard. I had to make him believe I was his thrall. I let him into the chamber where Odin lay helpless so that I could kill him when his guard was finally down."

"And, after?"

"My arrogance, yet again. I didn't understand what killing my Patriarch would really do. I believed I could handle the backlash. I didn't understand the madness that would overwhelm me. The need only for vengeance and blood that had driven him, suddenly drove me. I wanted to wipe out the Jotun the way he had wanted to destroy Asgard. Nothing and no one would stand in my way to achieve total annihilation."

The humiliation, the anger, fueled by the bleak, futile future Loki knew waited for him after the mayhem he'd allowed himself to be party to

"It was only in that moment, dangling from the bridge when father spoke to me, that I realized what I had done. What I had become. I was sure the madness of my true father would eat at me forever. I knew I could never be forgiven. Knew I did not deserve compassion. So I let go. I never expected to wake up in the land of the dead, free of the madness and compulsion that had consumed me."

"It was not your fault, Loki,"

"It was. I fought him when I could. I did not take your life. Or Heimdall's or Odin's. I could have ended it all as soon as I knew he was using me. I had enough control of my mind to jump from the bridge, even then. But my arrogance made me believe I could outsmart him."

"And you did, eventually."

"Eventually. Yes." His lips thinned into a smile that hurt like a razor. "After I had hurt and nearly killed every single person I ever cared about. After I nearly committed genocide."

"I let the Jotun in brother. Into Asgard and into my mind. It was my envy and my pride that gave him an opening. And it was those same dark thoughts that he manipulated cruelly for his own gain. It may not have been my choices or actions but it was my fault."

Thor's jaw was set and his gaze steady. He looked infinitely more mature than Loki had ever seen. His sad smile was filled with understanding when he spoke.

"It was my pride and arrogance that brought us to Jotunheim to begin with, so that he could get a foothold within you. It was my own choice that made Odin exile me so that you were in position to take the throne and be useful to Laufey. No doubt, father would have seen the truth in you, if he had not been burdened into Odinsleep by my actions."

He sat next to Loki on the couch, earnest and sad and looking smaller than he had ever seemed.

"We were both in the wrong. And, I think, we have both learned our lessons well. I forgive you. Father and mother both forgave you as well. We have all grieved for your loss. And they, like I, will rejoice to know you've returned to us. I hope that you can forgive me, as well. For being so self-absorbed that I did not see your pain. For being so arrogant and impetuous that I got myself exiled when you needed me by your side."

"That's ridiculous. There's nothing to forgive."

"And yet, I seek it from you anyway."

"All right. Of course. You have it."

 #

John took as much time as possible emptying his go-bag. Each piece of the two suits it held was carefully shaken and hung up with precise spacing in the closet. His casual clothes and sundries were each folded with careful creases and stacked neatly in the bureau drawer. When everything was emptied from the bag, he changed into a pair of track pants and a thermal then looked around for something else to pick up or put away.

He'd taken as much time as possible, stretching out his normal orderliness to compulsive levels in order to hide himself away a little longer.

Stark had amused himself as he showed off his sparkly new tower. He'd pointed out all the amenities of the V.I.P. floor while he assigned rooms to his motley crew of guests. The kitchenette near the elevators. The media room with its impressive view of the city. The lab space two floors below. The gym, one floor up. Even a reinforced firing range on one of the underground levels.

As the billionaire had shown each person to their room, he'd made observations and jokes and his usual blustering bid to remain the center of attention. For the most part, John had tuned him out. Until Stark had turned that knowing smirk on him.

"Fury said you had to play babysitter to Robin Goodfellow, here." Amused eyes had flicked toward Nuada, whose flat expression remained unchanged and Stark's shoulders slumped a little at the lack of reaction.

"I figured I'd give you two the two-bedroom suite." Then his disappointed frown broke into a suggestive leer. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer a single with one really big bed? He is very pretty. And you know what they say. Once you go fey, you never go back."

John blamed the hot, scarlet blush that had exploded over his face on the completely unexpectedness of the comment.

Coulson had once told John he believed Stark kept a mental tally of the times he could make the agent show some sliver of emotion.

Now, John was pretty sure, his name had been added to Stark's imaginary score sheet and he already had points against him.

The sound of the TV, coming on unexpectedly loud from the sitting room, signaled that his reprieve was over. He had no idea if Nuada noticed, or cared about, his unexpected reaction to Stark's suggestion but he really didn't want to find out. Still, he was responsible for Nuada. He couldn't hide in his room and still do his job.

Nuada stood in front of the huge television with his back to John, remote in one hand his head cocked to the side like he was trying to figure out what the hell he was looking at. Not that John could blame him. The particular reality show blaring at them often made him rethink his choice of dedicating his life to protecting humanity.

Of course, it wasn't the ridiculous cat fight on TV that had arrested his attention. Nuada had changed, as well, into a loose black shirt and carpenter jeans. The pants, baggy through the legs, still curved tightly against a perfect ass that made John swallow hard to silence the groan of appreciation.

One inappropriate crush had already gotten him sent to Antarctica. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he fucked up this assignment.

He must have made some noise, though, because Nuada turned around to look at him. John nearly swallowed his tongue. The shirt had been left unbutton, revealing carved abs that could have been chiseled on the statue of a Greek god.

Of course, they belonged to a flesh and blood Celtic god, instead.

John closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face then through his hair. He was going to throttled Stark for pushing his mind, and his libido, down this road.

"Is human entertainment always so… loud?"

John opened his eyes and realized Nuada had turned puzzled eyes back toward the screaming and hair-pulling on the screen.

"Uh, you can turn the volume down. Or change the channel."

Nuada looked back over his shoulder, a perplexed expression wrinkling his forehead. John sighed, stepping closer to take the remote. He flipped through until he found ESPN.

"Here. Sports. Not quite gladiatorial contests but it’s as close as you can get on cable."

"I see." Though he didn't sound convinced, he did settle back on the couch. He actually looked interested at the football highlights, sitting forward a little and asking questions about the rules of the sport. John sat next to him, explaining what he knew and promising to find out what he didn't.

It was surprisingly comfortable and relaxed, as long as John ignored the pressure and warmth of Nuada's thigh occasionally pressing against his own.

During a commercial break, however, Nuada shifted to face him and the mood tightened around them.

"Your leader was unhappy you did not bring me back in chains."

John inhaled with pursed lips and chose his words carefully.

"Not chains, exactly. But he expected you to be secured, I suppose. Handcuffs, at least."

"He was angry I was not thus secured." He leaned forward slightly, the pale hair slipping over his shoulder so the darker ends nearly brushed John's arm. "Do you often disobey your leader?"

There was something deep in the strange, amber eyes. Something darkly probing in the question, though John had no idea what Nuada was trying to unearth. Instead of trying to play games, he just answered honestly.

"I didn't disobey. My orders were to bring you back by any means necessary. And that's exactly what I did." He shrugged and let a ghost of a smile work its way to the surface. "It's not my fault everyone expected 'any means' to include the local SWAT team and possibly a boatload of elephant tranqs. I did what was necessary to bring you back."

Sports Center came back on and the silence resumed until Nuada had a question about two-point conversions and John let himself relax. Until the next commercial break. This time Nuada remained facing the screen and his voice was low.

"You had to know Abe could convince Nuala that securing me with handcuffs was necessary. That I would have conceded for her sake."

John still didn't know what Nuada was trying to figure out so he turned around and looked the prince in his strange, compelling eyes.

"It wasn't necessary. And if Fury was a little uncomfortable for a moment, well, that was a small price to pay to allow you your dignity and gain your cooperation."

The marble face didn't change expression at all but the eyes seemed to glow a little warmer.

"I see. Thank you." Michael Kim came back on with highlights of the baseball post-season games and John was once again answering questions about stolen bases and designated hitters.

 #

Wrung out, Loki considered cheering when Thor finally yawned and decided it was time to leave. Silently he would admit that getting everything out in the open between them had eased the sharp ache that had been living in his heart. Still, there was only so much sharing he was capable of in a single day.

He stood up along when his _brother_ … he had finally given in on that point after too many frustrating arguments over semantics. He walked his brother to the door and graciously accepted the crushing hug before Thor left, humming a much too happy song on his way.

"What were you jealous of, Loki?"

"What?"

He jumped and twisted, surprised to see Fandral still sprawled in the chair like he had no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. The warrior's face was anything but relaxed, however, when the sharp, unwavering gaze scratched over every inch of Loki's face.

"What were you jealous of?" He repeated the words, slowly and with great emphasis.

He wanted to be enraged at being spoken to like a wayward child but Loki was too focused on trying to get a grip on his runaway pulse. Fear and humiliation kicked through him and every instinct he had yelled for him to run and hide.

Fandral's eyes watched him like a hawk, however, and he fought hard not to show any of his racing thoughts. To reassure himself that he was imagining things. Fandral didn't know anything. He couldn't. Loki had kept his ridiculous infatuation with the warrior a secret for years.

Yes, Fandral had seen Loki spying on them. Had seen him flee as soon as he'd been caught. But he couldn't know what it meant. How it had felt on top of everything else. How it pushed him over the edge.

Fandral couldn't know, he repeated to himself like a mantra. Loki had been careful. He had never shown a hint of the unrequited, ill-advised infatuation. He didn't even know for sure when or how it had begun.

Perhaps it had been because Fandral was the only one who'd never made fun of him. Never called him weak. Never said magic was useless. Never suggested Loki be left behind. Perhaps it was because he'd actually shown interest. He'd asked questions about what Loki was doing. He'd seemed amazed at what Loki was capable of. Perhaps it was purely physical. The warrior was beautiful, all sleek muscles and quick grace.

It didn't really matter after a while. It was simply something that was. Loki watched Fandral. And he kept the yearning buried deep inside where even he could pretend it didn't exist.

Or he had, until their last adventure before the ill-fated trip to Jotunheim.

They had been chasing a pack of Sarvi wyverns, intent on bringing home the deadly horns to prove their bravery. Or, perhaps, their foolhardiness, Loki was never sure on these little jaunts. He'd been focused on springing a trap when the herd alpha had appeared in front of him, inches from skewering him. Fandral had barreled into him and knocked him out of the way. When he got his breath back they were both on the ground, Fandral stretched out along every inch of him, pressing him hard into the earth beneath. The manic, triumphant smile, shifted when he gazed down at Loki, their faces inches apart. Their lips just as close. For a long, hopeful second, Loki had been sure Fandral would close the distance.

Then a flicker of scales caught his eye and he'd rolled them both to avoid a trampling. Then the others were there and they, eventually, emerged victorious.

In the days after their triumphant return with the horn, Loki had been unable to get that singular, breathless moment out of his mind. Hadn't been able to stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, it wasn't quite so unthinkable that Fandral felt something for him in return. After days of vacillation, he'd pulled his courage together and gone looking for the warrior.

He'd found Fandral quickly. In the armory sparring room. Pinned under Thor.

He'd frozen for a moment at the tableau of the two men wrapped around each other on the wooden floor. The scene wrenched like a dagger being twisted, a dark painful parody of those precious moments when Loki had been pinned under Fandral only a few days before.

The two of them had been laughing softly, some secret joke passing between them while Fandral's face had buried in Thor's shoulder. Comfortable. Close. Intimate.

He'd gasped, an involuntary sound, torn out at another shattered illusion. Thor hadn't heard it but Fandral had looked up. His face had gone blank and his laughter stopped. His mouth had opened but Loki had fled before he could hear a single word.

The blind flight had left him breathless. That's what he'd told himself, that the heavy chunk in his chest making it impossible to breathe had been the run. Not the ripping disappointment and crushing jealousy.

After that, he'd spent a week or so hiding in one out of the way place or another. He told the few people he saw that he was working on a new magic technique. The truth was, he was avoiding everyone.

It worked well enough to keep him numb. At least until Odin had found him and taken him aside. Quietly, he'd told him of his choice, his plan to name Thor heir. It had been soft, full of reassurances of love and fatherly devotion, of trust and faith in Loki but a necessity for all of Asgard to have a clear vision of continuity.

Something had snapped. One more thing where the impulsive, immature golden boy would beat him out with charm and strength. Anger combusted through him, burning away the pain and embarrassment and grief. Left him thinking of nothing but vengeance and retribution.

He hadn't thought beyond ruining Thor's day. A laugh. A joke. To hurt his brother with joy turned to disappointment, the way his hope had turned to ash. But everything had gone so very wrong. Spiraled so completely out of control so fast.

"Loki?" Fandral was in front of him, now. Loki blinked in surprise. When had the warrior moved? How long had he been lost in his own head? His own pain?

Hands landed on his shoulder, fair head bent close to his and his throat went dry, breath caught.

"You."

The word slipped out and Loki couldn't call it back. The honesty of the evening had become a deluge of truth. He couldn't stop it from falling out of him, thought he squeezed his eyes tight to keep something of himself inside.

"I was jealous that he had you, too."

Silence dropped between them but fingers tightened on his shoulders. The cushion of air between them narrowed and breath ghosted against Loki’s ear when Fandral spoke.

"He never had me, Loki. What you saw, it wasn't what you thought you saw. He was teasing me. Taunting me that I took risks every moment but that I never took one with you. When I saw you, I was terrified by how much you may have heard. When you avoided me, I assumed you weren't interested and were disgusted by the very idea."

Loki's eyes flickered open, teeth sunk into his lip while he searched pale eyes for the truth.

Everything he'd wanted for so long stood right in front of him. But after so long believing he couldn't have it, he was terrified to reach out and touch. Scared to the center of his being it was another illusion that would disappear the second he tried to grasp it.

Fandral must have seen the fear, because he took the step for him, moving into Loki's space, until their bodies brushed at every place possible.

Strong hands cupped his jaw, raising it up so firm lips could claim his with sure, swift, sweetness.

They kissed slowly, gently, languidly until they couldn't fight the exhaustion any longer. Together, they stumbled to the bed and curled around each other in a tangle of limbs seconds before sleep claimed them.

 #

Steve followed quietly along on Tony's tour of the building, trying not to make it obvious that he never strayed far from the billionaire. While he’d walked through the building and watched Tony's performance, he realized how fast his perspective had changed. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd have been seeing the same thing he knew many of the other's were seeing now.

Loud, brash Tony Stark, tooting his own horn and flaunting his wealth. But Steve had been watching him closely, trying to figure the man out. Along with his own new, inexplicable feelings.

More than once in those few hours then been together and both conscious, Steve had seen his tells. The slight pull of skin around his eyes, a brief tightening of muscle along his jaw, a fast curl and uncurl of long fingers. Steve knew it wasn't even a conscious act anymore. Tony Stark had been hiding himself for a long time.

Deflecting. It was a word used by one of the counselors SHIELD had _requested_ he talk to over the months since his reawakening. Tony made an art form of diverting attention away from any and all topics he found unpleasant. In Steve's day, he just would have called it emotional sleight of hand.

Steve just found himself fascinated by the expansive energy and lightning fast mind. The buzz had quieted some since Steve had acknowledged, at least to himself, the attraction he felt for Tony. Now it was just a soft warm hum in the back of his head. As long as he stuck close. And Tony didn't seem to mind him staying near. At least, he hadn't tried to move away at all and he'd saved Steve's room for last on the tour, so it was just the two of them who stepped inside.

"So, uh, I figured you'd rather have the view." Tony stayed in motion, moving to open the curtains and then kind of wander around the room, gesturing expansively as he made his way back to where Steve stood. "It's smaller than the others but the balcony adds… something. And all the natural light, for the, uh, sketching thing. But if you'd rather have more space…"

"Tony, it's perfect. Thank you."

And it was. The view of the city was breathtaking. And sunlight poured into the room through the large windows that dominated an entire wall. How had Tony known? Had he been paying as much attention to Steve as Steve had been paying to him?

"Yeah?" Tony's voice was tight, a little scratchy and a little breathy.

When Steve tore his eyes away from the balcony, he realized how close they were standing. His arm brushed against Tony's shoulder when he turned. Uncertainty still shadowed Tony's eyes. Steve hated to see it taking the place of the usual blustering confidence but he couldn't help feeling something tight and sweet that Tony had allowed him to see it. He hadn't forced it down and tucked it away.

"Yeah." He let a little of his own uncertainty and hope shine through.

Tony licked his lips and lifted his chin. "So, uh, it could have been my imagination, but it totally felt like we were having a moment before Coulson… but I could have got it wrong. I mean, I know, the forties. Not the most progressive…"

"No, Tony."

"No?" A small line creased between dark brows.

"You weren't mistaken." Slowly, Steve brought his hand up, let his fingers drift across Tony's cheek before his hand curl loosely around the man’s neck.

When Tony only leaned in, rather than move away, the fear eased out of Steve's tight shoulders and he leaned closer. Let his lips brush over Tony's unexpectedly soft ones.

He moved again, brushing more firmly. Then Tony's hands were in his hair, demanding fingers pulling him down, searching tongue invading Steve's mouth.

He met the invasion by moving closer, letting his other hand curl around Tony's hip and sinking into the flavors of the man under his hand.

For a moment, Steve chalked the tapping sound up to the racing of his heart pounding in his ears. Then the door opened and he barely had time to drag his lips away and look up before Abe was peeking around the edge.

"Captain Roger? I was hoping we could have that conversation now. It really is very import—oh. My. I'm sorry."

The blue-green skin got darker.

"It's all right, Abe." Reluctantly, Steve stepped away from Tony, keeping the hand on the man's hip and looking intently until Tony finally return his gaze.

"Abe and I have been trying to have this conversation for hours. It's important, I think. Would you mind? Just for a few minutes."

"Sure." The eyes closed off a little and the smile was a little too perfect. It hurt to see Tony drifting back behind the Stark persona. But he needed to know what Abe knew about Erskine. He owed the man's memory that much.

Steve's teeth sank into his lip while he watched Tony walk out the door, carefully flipping the lock before closing it resolutely behind him.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to interrupt."

Steve forced his eyes away from the door, telling himself he could fix whatever he'd done wrong. He smiled at the nervous looking Abe and offered him a seat.

"How are you doing, Abe?" He asked politely, sitting down as well. "Are you doing all right out of water so long?"

"Fine, actually, the room assigned to me has access to a pool. Mr. Stark is arranging to have the chemicals change to something more compatible with my biochemistry." Steve remembered them talking about something like that but they had quickly devolved into scientific words he didn't recognize and he'd turned his thoughts to how he'd sketch Tony, instead.

"Right. So, uh, did you know Erskine?"

"No, that was before my time with Professor Bruttenholm. But Broom was a friend of his. As a matter of fact, Broom played a part in his defection to the United States. They also acted as sounding boards for one another in their various experiments and research."

"Did he know what was in the serum?"

"Not all of it. But he did supply the final item in Erskine's attempt to perfect his experiment." Abe paused and Steve's heart kicked into a racing rhythm. Whatever the BPRD agent had to say next, he knew it was going to change everything. "What do you know about werewolves?"

The question threw him and he stared for a long moment at Abe before answering. "Uh, I'm assuming you don't mean the movie kind?"

"No. I suppose that means you aren't aware of the true, historical werewolves?"

He bit his lip and shook his head. Considering the demon, the fish-man, the firestarter, the elves and the Norse gods he was currently working with, the idea of real werewolves wasn't a surprise.

"They exist?" It was half question half guess and he smiled a little at Abe's sigh.

"Maybe. They did once, at least, but they were hunted until the last one disappeared in the early twentieth century. Some believe they were hunted to extinction, others think they just went deep into hiding. One of the most unique things about the species, besides the obvious, of course, was that they had an extra organ the secreted a unique hormone."

Oh, god, he had a horrible suspicion where this was going and he really didn't want to hear. Like he didn't have enough to worry about. "Am I going to turn into a werewolf?"

"No. Oh, no. The organ, and the secretion Broom gave to Erskine to use in the serum, is actually only active during the wolf's mate search."

Steve felt as if his jaw unhinged and he could only repeat what he'd heard, uncomprehending.

"Mate search?"

"Uh, yes. You see, once a werewolf reached maturity, around mid-twenties for the species, the organ secreted a hormone that would send the wolf out in a search for a mate. According to their mythology, there was only one mate for each wolf. Human, werewolf, male or female, it didn't matter. They would know them by the way their bodies reacted. And once they bonded, they would settle back into the pack. If they never found a mate, they would remain alone, or worse, go crazy and rogue."

And that provoked even more questions than it answered but Steve started with the least frightening. "Why? Why would Erskine include a… a love potion in the serum?"

"Oh it wasn't exactly a love potion. It was a mix of biochemical…" Steve could feel the fierce frown dragging at his lips and saw the moment when Abe noticed, as well, and trailed of his fascinated explanation. "I suppose its chemical makeup isn't important."

He sighed and leaned forward. "You have to understand that werewolf packs were renowned for their loyalty, their integrity and their fierce protectiveness. The forming of pack was directly linked to successful mate searches and bonds. After Schmidt, those were all traits Erskine very much wanted to instill in whoever took the serum."

"But… am I suppose to find a mate?"

"The preliminary tests were inconclusive whether you would be driven to a search of your own. Erskine intended to watch your reactions and explain it to you if you showed any signs of, well, wolf-like behavior. Broom would have taken his place, except he was deeply involved in another… project. By the time he even learned of Erskine's death, you were missing and presumed dead."

"What happens if I find a mate?"

"The research explains that you will respond physically, mentally and emotionally. Some symptoms including an electric hum, an insatiable need to touch, irrational protectiveness. Everything says that the wolf knew their mate when they met. That it was unmistakable. They react to the person in a way they never have to anyone else."

The lump forming in Steve's throat was impossible to swallow around, fear and hope and confusion clawed at his chest. Unmistakable. Electric. Irrational. Clear concise descriptions of his feelings and reactions over the past day or so.

"And the bonding?"

"There is less information about that. The werewolves were reluctant, understandably, to talk about something so intimate and personal. If the mate is agreeable, willing to join their lives permanently with the werewolf, a spiritual and mental bridge forms between the two, along with the sexual and the physical."

"And what happens if the wolf didn't find his mate? Or if the mate rejected him?"

"In general, they would become loners and hermits. Their life expectancy was cut in half. Worse, though, if a werewolf found his mate and started to form an attachment and a bond that was not reciprocated, they often suffered a psychotic break. It was from those individuals that our myths of ravening wolf-men spring from. They became more beast than human, bent on destruction and pain and death."

"I see." And he did. A ravening mindless beast with superhuman strength was a terrifying prospect.

"This is all just speculation, Captain. You do not have the organ to continuously secrete the hormone. It may no longer even be in your system."

Hope sprang in his chest only to be squashed by his own knowledge. "It is. It's still there."

"Oh." The translucent eye membrane blinked rapidly while Abe processed what Steve was saying. "You've met your mate."

It wasn't a question and Steve could tell by the thoughtful look on the not-quite-human face that Abe had worked out for himself exactly _who,_ as well.

"Oh, dear."

"Yeah." He agreed with a sinking weight pushing him into a despondent hunch. "I'd, uh, really like to be alone, right now."

"Of course." Abe hurried toward the door but paused. "If you need to talk, ever…"

"Thank you, Abe. I'm sure I will later. For now, I need to think."

Every single video and biography and tabloid report he'd read about Tony earlier flashed rapidly through his mind, stabbing another reminder of the impossible into his heart.

A thousand one-night stands and brief affairs but few relationships before or after Pepper. The reporters believed Pepper had been the only one with any hope of taming the infamous reprobate. When their relationship ended, the consensus was that he was simply untamable. A commitment-phobe who would never settle down.

And Steve would need the ultimate commitment.

The knock didn't really startle him. He'd felt the electric buzz rising along his skin as Tony approached. Now that he was resisting, the hum seemed even more insistent.

He opened the door carefully, only a few inches, just enough to see the handsome face wrinkle with confusion, the smile falling a little at the unexpectedly cool reception.

"Uh, Jarvis said you were alone."

"Yeah. Yes. Abe left a few minutes ago." It hurt, letting the silence stretch out. Seeing the uncertainty form in his m- in Tony's eyes. It had to be this way. For both of them.

"So, uh, can I come in?"

"Actually, didn't get much sleep last night." Tony brightened a little at the reminder of where Steve had been and Steve cursed himself for inadvertently giving him hope. "I'm really tired. Wouldn't be great company. See you in the morning."

He closed the door before he could change his mind. Before Tony could speak and make him forget. He turned and pressed his back against the door, knowing that Tony was still standing on the other side, no doubt puzzled by the sudden cold shoulder. But he wouldn't ask for more than the man could give. Wouldn't let Tony know how much he needed him.

When heavy, slow footsteps finally started to move away, Steve dropped to the floor, letting his head fall against his pulled up knees. It didn't matter if it was the best thing for both of them. It didn't matter that it was the right thing to do. His heart was ripping in two, half of it walking away and there was nothing he could do but let it go.

 #

Two weeks.

The Star Spangled Popsicle had been avoiding Tony for two weeks. He wasn't sure which bothered him more, the actual avoidance or the fact that he still gave a fuck.

Tony wasn't a glutton for punishment. And, despite tabloid reports to the contrary, he wasn't so arrogant and self-absorbed that he expected every single person in the world to want nothing more than to get into his pants. There was more than enough who did, though, that Tony had never had any trouble moving on to the next flirtation.

Steve had made it clear he wasn't interested. But Tony hadn't moved on to his next conquest. Instead he found himself content to hang out in the Stark Tower. Whether bouncing ideas back and forth with Bruce or introducing Thor to slapstick comedy or explaining sabermetrics to the elf-boy, he found himself strangely content. Content in a way that it used to take a bottle scotch and a blond or two his bed to achieve.

It didn't ease the frustration or the itch of thwarted attraction that tortured him every time Steve suddenly remembered he needed to be somewhere else whenever Tony walked into a room.

When Steve looked at him though, that same scorching, toe-curling want was still there. So was a pathetic longing, a needy tracking of Tony's movement whenever he thought no one was looking.

So, instead of moving on, Tony found himself holding on. Hanging out at home instead of looking for the next party. Spending a mind-numbing amount of time at SHIELD rather than jetting off to Cancun or Milan or whatever the hotspot of the week was.

Which was why he found himself pressed up against the wall, next to a door opened barely a crack and straining to eavesdrop on the obviously private conversation going on inside.

"Captain, are you sure you are okay? You are getting paler and more easily distracted." Abe sounded concerned. More so than Tony would have expected and his stomach clenched. Was Steve ill? Had he missed the signs in his own self-centered pining?

"I'm fine."

The words were snarled and impatient and so un-Steve-like, Tony actually found himself taking a step to go calm the man before remembering he wasn't supposed to be listening and pressed himself back against the wall.

"It's not getting any better, is it?" The fish-man sounded concerned but there was also an air of I-told-you-so in his tone, as well. Like they'd had this conversation before. "Perhaps if you explained the situation to Tony—"

"I said I'm fine."

And, whoa, Tony had never heard that snapping, vicious growl out of the Captain. It surprised him nearly as much as hearing his own name had.

The sound of someone pacing and the deep cleansing breath, suggested Steve was getting himself back in control.

"Sorry, Abe. I don't mean to… I just can't burden Tony with this. I can't ask for… I can't…"

"You can't avoid him forever." Abe interrupted and Tony nodded silently in agreement.

Silence grew in the room for several seconds, then the sound of Abe's distinctive footsteps moved toward the door and Tony quickly shuffled around the corner, out of sight.

When Steve remained silently, stubbornly inside the room, Tony knew there was no way he was going to leave well-enough alone.

So he pasted on a smirk and moved to slouch nonchalantly in the doorway. Steve sat at the table, head cradled in his hand, not noticing Tony's arrival at all.

"You still want me." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a demand. But it took all he had to make sure it didn't come out as a plea, either.

Steve's head snapped up, blue eyes wide and mouth open in shock before he firmed his expression. He stood up, using his height and his posture as a barrier to the emotions trying to show through.

"Tony. I. I can't. There are things you don't know."

He could see the naked want Steve was trying to hide. Could see the way the man curled his hands into fist to keep from reaching out.

Fuck it.

Tony stepped forward, pushed himself into Steve's space and refused to let the man escape him.

"So tell me, then." He dropped his voice, making it an invitation to confide. A promise to understand.

Steve blinked and licked his lips, eyes riveted on Tony.

"Hey, you two. Fury wants us in the conference room ASAP. We found HYDRA and the Tesseract."

Natasha called from the doorway, open amusement in her tone.

Everything that had opened in Steve's face shut down, into the impassive mask of Captain America. He stepped back, then around Tony, without meeting his eyes.

"Of course. Let's go."

Tony trailed them out cursing the redhead and Fury under his breath. He slumped in a chair at the conference table, as far from Fury and Captain America as he could get, brooding through the meeting and only half listening.

"Iron Man and Thor, your job will be to break through the titanium dome so Loki, Cap, Fandral and Bruce can repel into the Tesseract chamber."

That brought Tony out of his funk and he sat up sputtering. "Wait, what?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed a copy of HYDRA's fortified building blueprint in front of him while Fury's single-eyed glare burned into him.

Huh. Seems they'd learned a little from their own raid on SHIELD. The top floor of the building was the best place for experimenting with the blue power cube, so they'd attempted toshore up the obvious vulnerabilities of the glass ceiling by covering it with a retractable shield.

"Oh. I see."

"If everyone is caught up…" Fury rumbled with a final hard look. "Hellboy, Ms. Sherman, Sapien, the twins, Meyers and Natasha will lead the ground forces…

Tony's part over, he tuned back out as talk turned to schematics and tactics. Steve's attention remained rapt on Fury, eyes never looking away. But there was a tightness in his jaw and a white knuckled grip on his pencil that made Tony think maybe the good Captain was more aware of Tony's attention than he was letting on.

"Any questions?" Fury finally asked when the battle plans had been beaten long past the point where anyone could find any interest in it.

A variety of negative murmurs shifted around the table. Tony leaned back and looked straight at Steve while he answered the Director.

"Not for you.

A startled Steve finally glanced at him and Tony let a slow, promising smile slide across his face before turning and following the rest of the team out of the room.

 #

Thor hung back when they walked out of the meetin and Loki watched warily when he pulled Fandral back along with him for a quiet conversation. Of course, Thor being Thor, the concept of subtlety escaped him and his booming voice filled the corridor.

"Protect my brother, Fandral. He is your responsibility while we are separated."

Most of the team, and several passing personnel, paused and looked, glancing at Loki with surprise or amusement or curious bewilderment.

It took all of his self-control and focus to keep his face serene and his pale skin free from the threatening blush. It wasn't like he couldn't more than hold his own in a fight, even without the mass of muscles and brawn his brother depended on.

This was even more embarrassing than Thor's attempt at a 'don't-hurt-him-or-else' lecture, when he couldn't figure out if he should be threatening his brother or his best friend. Of course, the situation had been made more humiliating because Thor had walked in on them in bed together that first day in Stark's tower and assumed much more had happened than kissing and cuddling. Unfortunately, that was all they'd had the energy for and had fallen asleep lips pressed together and bodies wrapped around each other.

Even before Thor's attempt at a big brother lecture, however, the bright light of day and well-rested mind made it clear that Loki couldn't get too attached to Fandral. Couldn't let whatever it was they'd started go too far.

Soon, they'd have to return to Asgard. Loki would have to face the judgment and justice of his father. And more insidiously, the judgment of the rest of the inhabitants of Asgard. Fandral deserved better than the whispers and disdain an association with Loki would bring him.

For the first time in his life, Loki was thinking of someone else's happiness over his own. He'd been doing the best he could to hold Fandral at arm’s length while gathering as many memories and moments as he could. Fandral did not make it easy with his warm smile and soft words and gentle touch.

Or the hot way his eyes would rake over Loki, unconcerned with who may be watching. Like he was doing now, in the middle of SHIELD with the entire team around them.

"I will protect him with my life. I would sacrifice anything for him."

Fandral's eyes locked onto Loki as he murmured in a much softer tone than Thor's reverberating roar. The words carried straight to Loki's heart anyway. A hot blush sprang up despite his best effort and he turned back to keep the want and hope from giving his need away. 


	4. Part Four

Part Four

Steve ducked under a wildly swung metal bar, threw his shoulder into the midsection of the attacking HYDRA soldier and drove them both to the ground. Two short, sharp punches and he was on his feet again looking for the next opponent.

Battle plans were all well and good, he thought philosophically, shifting his weight and letting a fist fly harmlessly past his face. Another quick pivot and he returned with a solid punch to the gut that had the black clad soldier doubling over.

Right up until the battle actually started. A spinning back kick and a wide swing of his shield took out two more enemy combatants.

The assault on HYDRA's stronghold was no exception. It had all gone according to plan, in the beginning. The ground teams had taken HYDRA by surprise and infiltrated the defenses with quick efficiency. Tony and Thor had combined to punch a hole through the protective dome then provided cover while he and Fandral had led the SHIELD troops to take control of the upper floors. Then Bruce and Loki had dropped down to do their job and get the Tesseract secured and ready for transport.

That's when things started to go wrong.

A panicked scientist, cornered in an alcove of the laboratory had picked up a huge, nasty looking weapon. He looked as surprised as anyone when it boomed in his hand knocking him backwards ten feet and sending a sonic wave at the descending Loki and Dr. Banner. Loki took the brunt of it, flying with frightening speed into a bank of computers with a crash that rivaled the weapons original boom.

Bruce was spun around and knocked to the ground but when he got to his feet, he was already changing. Seconds later the giant green menace was rampaging through the room, scattering SHIELD troops and HYDRA alike until it devolved into chaos.

"Iron Man! Behind you!"

Steve was turning before Thor could finish his warning shout, taking in the HYDRA soldier who’d picked up the sonic weapon and was now aiming it at Tony's unprotected back.

"NO!" Panic, white hot and ice cold gripped his heart, shattered his mind and left only one thought.

 _Protect my mate_.

The shield left his hand in a violent spin and Steve was vaulting toward the red armor. His body collided with Tony's at the same moment he heard the clang of metal followed by the grunt and collapse of a body hitting the ground.

Behind him, he heard the sounds of the ground troops, led by Natasha and the BRPD, flooding the room and taking control. He ignored it all, only one sound he wanted to hear.

"Tony? Tony, are you okay? Tony?"

The gold mask flipped up and brown eyes glared at him. "I'm fine, if you don't count being knocked to the floor by two-hundred pounds of super soldier muscle. What the fuck? Couldn't you have just shouted 'look out' like Thor did?"

"I, uh, I…" The adrenaline spike was wearing off but the need to reassure himself of Tony's safety was not. Reason and logic were gone, supplanted by instincts that refused to be checked.

He lowered his head, covered Tony's lips and moaned when the sweet mouth opened for him, invited him eagerly. Tongues stroked together in a rhythm that started a low burn and he shifted trying to get closer.

A heavy, metallic hand landed on his back and the wrongness of the sensation, when he'd been expecting warm exploring fingers, jerked him back to the moment.

He reared up, shock by the tears of relief and fear on his cheeks. An apology on his tongue.

Tony's own surprise shifted into a scowl.

"Oh, no you don't. We _are_ going to talk about this." Then he glanced at the chaos around them. "Later. When there isn't any shooting at us."

 #

The mayhem of the battle in HYDRA's laboratory began to settle around Phil. He divided his attention between clean up, securing the HYDRA prisoners and coordinating the various squads sweeping through the rest of the stronghold.

A pale figure hovering uncertainly in a doorway caught his attention, his body on alert for a second before he sighed. "Could someone find Dr. Banner some pants please?"

Someday he was going to get to coordinate a straight-forward op that didn't require creative obfuscation when writing up the reports.

A glance toward Loki showed the Asgardian on his feet and conscious though he was leaning heavily against Fandral. The way the warrior hovered and stroked fingers across Loki's skin suggested something more than the concern of a companion-in-arms. Phil chose to ignore it. The way he'd ignored the, well, cuddling between Iron Man and Captain America earlier.

Another detail that was going to get left out of the official report.

Across the room, Myers and Nuada worked side by side checking prisoners and equipment. They didn't touch, barely spoke, but their silent looks and sure knowledge that the other was there made Phil's throat tighten at the reminder of…

"I miss him, too."

Phil tensed, every muscle straining to keep him from jumping at the unexpected voice by his elbow. Natasha was one of the few who could sneak up on him and he favored her with a glare that she shrugged off.

"We'll get him back." Hard eyes and a thin-lined press of her lips backed up Widow's promise with hard-edged determination.

"Yes," Phil agreed and turned back to survey the lab, afraid she might know him well enough to see the emotions he held in check and shielded from the rest of the world. "Yes, we will get him back. But we have to get this sorted out first."

Someone had found Banner a lab coat and he'd secured it with a belt but it still showed a disturbing amount of pale, hairy leg. Fandral stood guard while Banner and Loki hunkered down, carefully removing the Tesseract from the monstrous looking weapon it had been embedded in. Whatever it was, Phil was glad it was never going to be unleashed on the world. Tony hovered around them offering unsolicited and unhelpful advice while casting dark, frustrated glares in the Captain's direction.

For his part, Rogers had put as much distance between him and Iron Man as he could. A few feet from Phil, he'd joined Thor in questioning some of the ranking HYDRA officers and scientists while he studiously avoided the hard looks from Tony.

Myers finished his circuit and grimly approached Phil.

"Schmidt was caught on the helipad before he got away but two of the scientists working on that," he motioned to the monstrosity from which the team had finally extricated the glowing blue cube. "Managed to escape in the chaos of Hulk's stroll through the stronghold."

"I'll go after them." Natasha's sharp smile told him the wannabe Nazi's should be very, very frightened.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Now it’s all up to the scientists to get our people back. I won't be any use at HQ but I can hunt a couple of fugitives."

"I'll go with you."

Phil, Myers and Widow all turned to stare at Rogers, Natasha's lips twitching a little when she didn't bother to hide her amusement. The way the soldier glanced at Iron Man then immediately pulled his eyes away told Phil everything he needed to know about where the impulsive offer came from. And how bad of an idea it probably was.

Before he could find a diplomatic way to tell the Captain there wasn't a chance in hell, Natasha saved him from having to be the bad guy.

"No offense, Cap, but they're going to be watching their back trail pretty close. Stealth is going to be more important than strength and you don't exactly blend in." She patted him on the arm in consolation. "Besides, I doubt you could keep up with me."

Before Rogers could pick up his jaw, she was gone.

Phil exchanged a bland smile with Myers then got back to work corralling the circus he was in charge of.

#

John settled onto a bench in the belly of the transport plane and let his breathing shift into a slower rhythm. The mood on the return trip to New York was lighter and more relaxed than the trek to HYDRA's stronghold. There was still work to do but the victory and rout of HYDRA's troops coupled with the recovery of the Tesseract gave them all hope.

Quiet conversation and even an occasional chuckle filled the transport plane. The bleed off of adrenaline and the relief of successful recovery left the energy low and calm around him.

Nuada sat next to him. Close, like he always seemed to be. Shoulder pressing into John's. Hips, thighs, knees and feet. But not a word. They didn't speak much. Most of the time, they didn't need to. John let his head drop back against the metal panel and sighed.

Next to him, Nuada chuckled, a low sound, felt more along the skin touching the elf’s than actually heard. John didn't hide the shiver that rolled through him. Whatever it was going on between them, they may not talk about it, but they didn't hide it either. Maybe now that the hard part was over, he could find a way to ask.

A heavy weight landed on the bench on the other side of the elf. John didn't even bother to open his eyes. He'd recognize Hellboy's brand of subtlety anywhere.

"Nice work, Myers. You too, elf-boy." John slitted his eyes to watch but Nuada didn't bother to rise to Red's bait anymore. The demon grinned and shrugged, unfazed by the lack of response.

"So Abe's talked the BRPD director into asking Nuala to join up with us. Figure you're good in a fight. Haven't tried to destroy humanity in weeks. Maybe you'd like to tag along, Nuada?"

John swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a heartbeat. He hadn't thought beyond getting the Tesseract back. Nuada didn't really belong to the world John inhabited.

Knee pressed tighter but Nuada’s attention remained on Red. "I'll consider it."

He could hear the smirk in Nuada's voice, though there wasn't a trace of it on the prince's face.

He let himself relax and decided to talk to Coulson about undercutting the BPRD and recruiting Nuada for SHIELD, instead.

 #

Steve hung back while the plane emptied, needing a few minutes to himself. The sudden quiet, however, did nothing to ease the pounding of his heart, the angry buzz of his skin or the clamoring instincts. His mate had been in danger and he'd walked away. Everything demanded he find Tony, protect him, care for and comfort him. Okay, the danger was past. He knew that but he couldn't seem to make his instincts believe it.

Perhaps, it would be better for him to be caught up in the crowd of SHIELD headquarters, in order to drown out the clamoring need.

At the bottom of the ramp, however, a hand curled around his wrist and dragged him back into the shadows beneath the plane. Instead of reacting by going into defensive mode, he leaned into the body next to him and inhaled the familiar musky scent.

He's body and instincts recognized Tony before his eyes or his mind. He had a moment to idly wonder when and where Tony had changed from the Mark VI into a t-shirt and jeans before his face ended up pressed between Tony's neck and shoulder, the sweet musky scent drowning him in here, now, this.

 Then he realized that he shouldn't, couldn't, allow this. That he had to escape before he ruined everything he'd been doing for the last two weeks.

"I heard you talking to Abe, earlier, you know."

Panic twisted cold and hard and he tried to tense but his body refused and Tony held on tight. "What did you hear?"

"Just that Abe thinks you should talk to me instead of being all stoic and noble."

"Pretty sure that's not what he said." Steve laughed a little against the skin of Tony's throat and felt the man shutter. It took everything he had not to lick at the delicate, sensitive skin to see what kind of reaction that would get him.

"So, I paraphrased. I got the gist of it." He pulled back to look into Steve's face and Steve had to suppress a whimper of protest. "Tell me, Steve."

The dark eyes locked onto him and, for the first time, Tony wasn't trying to hide anything. Fear, hope, confusion, need and a hundred other things flickered in and out of the dark depths and Steve couldn't resist the urge to give his mate what he was asking for.

The words poured out of him. Everything Abe had told him. Everything they'd found in research since then.

Tony mouth pulled into a deep frown, lines of frustration etched deeply into his forehead by the time Steve was done explaining about the wolf serum and what it meant.

"And you thought, what?” The billionaire demanded. “That I'd wash my hands of you and leave you a slow slide into insanity? Or worse?"

Anger and hurt had replaced everything else and the emotionless mask was starting to smooth over Tony's features.

"No. But I couldn't even consider asking you to sacrifice who you are because Erskine played god seventy years ago. You've said often enough that commitment was for suckers. That variety was what life is all about. I've watched the interviews." Over and over. Way too much to be healthy, Steve was sure. "It's not fair to ask…"

Tony's hand curled around Steve's head and tugged him into a fierce kiss full of teeth and fury and passion and need. When they finally separated, Steve rested his forehead against Tony's, panting to catch his breath while his brain tried to catch up with what was happening.

"Wait. Tony. What? Why?"

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe something in me avoided commitment because it was waiting? You said mythology hints there's some kind of destiny or fate involved. Maybe I couldn't settle down with anyone else because _they_ weren't _you_?"

"Tony?" His voice, filled with longing, could only find the single name as he tried to fight the hope straining to break free.

Tony leaned in again, dropping his head onto Steve's shoulder and pressing closer.

"I haven't wanted anyone else since I met you. I was with Pepper for years before we got to the relationship thing and, even then, it was a strain not to notice every body that walked by. It was one of the hundreds of reasons we couldn't make it work."

Steve could feel Tony winding himself tighter and tighter, the billionaire's voice dropping and straining.

After a long stretch of silence, Tony whispered against Steve's chest. "You fill a space inside of me that's been hollow for as long as I can remember. Don't push me away because you think I can't do it. Give me a chance."

A wave of relief and grateful awe swept through Steve and he slipped his hand under Tony's chin, lifting until the shorter man could see everything in him. The joy and passion and wonder.

"Yes," he murmured softly. More words, however, were beyond him at the moment and, instead, he reclaimed Tony's lips in a soul-promising kiss.

"Ahem."

Startled, Steve broke the kiss and shifted to see Coulson, standing a few feet away with his hands clasped in front of him and a bored look on his face.

"Not again," Tony groaned. "Either we have the worst timing in the world or there's a conspiracy to interrupt us."

"Possibly both." Coulson's deadpan delivery made it impossible to tell if he was joking but Steve was sure he was. Mostly sure. The man's expression didn't change, though, when he spoke again. "We're ready to talk about the Tesseract and the ERBM, if you two would care to join us."

"Ahh, c'mon, Dad. Five more minutes." Tony's petulant whine made Steve smile which said more than anything else how infatuated he was with the man.

"Tony, we have to go. People are depending on us."

"Fine." The pout remained firmly fixed. "But you have to promise we'll finish this later. Promise you won't panic and change your mind again."

"I promise." And he put everything he wanted and needed into the two words, willing Tony to believe.

"Good." Tony nodded and stepped back. "Remember, I have a witness. Coulson you're my witness."

"I'll fill out a signed affidavit if you'll both kindly get your asses to the conference room."

 #

An hour into the discussion, Tony realized most of the conversation revolved around him, Loki, Abe, Bruce and the twins. The rest of the group were leaning back in their chairs, glazed looks on the faces of those who were still awake. Hellboy was snoring away in a corner despite Liz's repeated elbow jabs to his midsection.

He didn't blame them really. The deeper they got into the conversation, the more his stomach ached. He was an engineer and a man of science. Listening to Loki, Nuada and Nuala talk casually about bending the laws of physics like they were talking about having breakfast made him faintly ill.

Steve sat across from him, faint crinkles deepened around his eyes, teeth sunk into his lip in a way that made Tony want to lick away the indents. Kiss away the confused look and run his hands over—

"Does all that mean you can get the Jane and the others back?"

Tony blinked, reined in his libidinous thoughts and looked at Thor. The blond god looked as confused as the others but a fierce determination burned in his eyes when he waved his hand at the pile of notes and sketches scattered in front of Tony.

"Yes, Mr. Stark, can we get our people back?" Fury's deep rumble repeated the question and made Tony roll his eyes. "Can you fix the ERBM?"

Tony leaned back, tucked his hands behind his head and huffed.

"The machine's not broken. All of the diagnostics show the Einstein-Rosen bridge manifested perfectly. At least within the parameters Jane and Selvig theorized in their notes. It brought Thor and Fandral to earth safely. It only got all unexpected and wonky when Loki and the Wonder Twins did their rain dance or whatever."

The room remained expectantly silent when he stopped talking, waiting for the rest. The stuff Tony could not make himself say out loud. Instead, he turned to look imploringly at Sapien, who managed to look amused without shifting his serious expression one iota while answering the Director.

"Between the combining of fey magic with Asgardian, the unusual properties of the Tesseract and the unique effects experienced in the underworld created an unexpected effect that caused the current predicament."

"Can you recreate the effect to get them back?" Coulson plunged into the quiet with the hesitant question. It was the first time Tony had ever heard the agent sound uncertain.

"Unfortunately, we believe it was a reciprocal magic effect responsible for the translocation of your people. Recreating it would not be beneficial."

The looks deepened from confusion to complete incomprehension and eyes darted around the room to see if anyone else understood what the hell Abe was talking about.

Tony scrubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes before staring forlornly up at the ceiling.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate using the word _magic_ in a non-ironic way?" He sighed and sat up straight. "What Abe is trying to say, is that if we tried to recreate the same conditions, we'd have to send three other people through the rift to replace the ones coming back. Not exactly an ideal solution. Personally, I'm all for using Skull Jr., Fury and Sitwell as a sacrifice but I doubt Captain Patriotic Pants will let me."

He grinned at Steve, who surprised him by sticking out his tongue in return.

"I will go. I will gladly take Jane's place in the land of the dead if it will ensure her safety."

Loki opened his mouth but stopped before he spoke. Something bright lit in his eyes and he turned and began babbling at the elves. It was English, but the words were strung together in a way Tony didn't recognized. Abe jumped in with even more words that seemed to be used in completely the wrong context.

"Is this how others feel when I start talking about the arc reactor?"

"Yes." Fury, Coulson and Steve answered in a chorus of voices and Tony scowled at them. Steve took some of the sting out of it with a bright smile. When Tony smiled back, letting a little heat and a little seduction sneak into it, the big, bad captain blushed and looked down at his hands.

They were so going to fix that as soon as the crisis of the day was over. When Tony was done, nothing was going to make Rogers blush again. Letting the grin shift into a self-satisfied smirk, he turned his attention back to the fast and furious conversation still going on beside him. Now, even Bruce had joined in.

Bruce, really? Bruce was supposed to be his science bro. What the hell did he know about voodoo?

Since no one else looked as if they were willing to interrupt, Tony cleared his throat and asked, "Want to share with the rest of the class?"

Abe sat up, his eye's doing that unnerving blinking thing. "Of course, sorry. We think, with some adjustments, Loki, Nuala and Nuada can combine their magic again to create a sympathetic, empathic and vibrational effect rather than reciprocal."

God, the whole idea of magic gave him the heebie-jeebies. Science. Things should always be solved with science.

"Great." Tony clapped his hands and went with sarcasm to cover his uncertainty. "Should I call around for the sacrificial chicken? Or are we going to need a whole goat for this?"

Abe sighed softly but otherwise ignored him. "We believe the strong emotional link between Jane and Thor can be used to pull her back. Loki still has the mental connection he forged with Selvig. We just need to find someone who is close to Agent Barton."

Steve bit his lip, thoughtfully. "Natasha is still chasing the scientists that escaped HYDRA's stronghold. We could call her back, I suppose."

"That won't be necessary." All eyes turned to stare at Agent Coulson. The soft spoken words dropped liked rocks in the stunned room. "I will stand for Agent Barton."

Even more than usual, his face and his posture were carved in stone. Even Tony wasn't crazy enough to risk that fearsome determination by trying to call him on it.

"All right, then," Fury stood up, a clear signal the meeting was over. "Science and magic people get to work. Everyone else, stand down until we're ready to play with the fabric of the universe again."

 #

Clint drowsed by the campfire and stared at the unchanged bruises on his arm. It had become something of a silent obsession with him, wondering what it meant that new wounds disappeared but old ones remained. He couldn't help wondering about the passage of time. To him, as close as he could track, it seemed like a couple of weeks. But had it been? Had it been a day on earth? An hour? A year? More?

If… when. When they got back, would the world be the same? Could he believe in what he'd seen in the water? Or was that only what could have been if he'd never left?

A deep breath eased the ache around his ribs. Faith. What he'd seen, he had to believe he was going to have it someday. There was no room for doubt. Not here and now. And not _when_ they got home.

A faint tremble passed under Clint's feet and he reached for his bow without thought. The tremor became a roll until the ground was shaking and the cave was raining dirt and pebbles on their head.

"Everyone out!"

He waited until Jane and Selvig cleared the mouth of the cave before following them out. The sky was darker than it had ever been though bright flashes of light flickered in the distance.

"What the hell is that?" Clint asked.

Jane shook her head. "I have no idea."

"Better question," Selvig said. "Should we run towards it or away from it?"

 #

Loki watched Tony and Bruce work on the ERBM. The Tesseract was installed already, casting its cool blue glow and eerie shadows around the top floor lab. The dark haired girl, who'd introduced herself as Darcy, hovered around them, chatter constantly spilling out of her mouth as she ostensibly helped. From where he sat near the wall, it looked more like she was getting in the way and trying Stark's patience.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder with a gentle caress. Despite his best intentions, he leaned slightly into the warmth of Fandral's body behind him.

"How much danger is there for you?" The warrior asked softly.

"Do you really think I would volunteer to do anything if I didn't believe I was perfectly safe?"

"Yes."

"Oh, come now. Everyone knows self-preservation is my primary concern."

"Don't do that. I know you would do anything for your brother.”

"Do not believe me so noble. I have enough blood on my hands. I do not want more. Besides, attempts at redemption here may mitigate my punishment and exile when we return to Asgard."

Fandral squeezed. "Odin has already forgiven you. Thor has accepted you with open arms. I and the other Warriors Three will stand by you. As will Sif and Freya."

"I do not want you to stand by me."

Fandral froze. "I thought you… we…" His hand moved away. "Perhaps I misunderstood."

"No." Loki reached for the retreating hand, calling himself ten thousand kinds of fool. He should let Fandral walk away. But he couldn't let him leave believing the… whatever it was between them… was one-sided. "You didn't misunderstand. I do not want you to be tarnished by how the masses of Asgard will see me. Odin and Thor will be untouched by the gossip. You will not remain unscathed by sharp tongues."

Fandral surprised him by laughing. "I have faced ice giants and dragons and a hundred other perilous situations. Do you really think I fear maiden aunts and shiftless courtiers? They will not touch me either, after the first challenges have been issued."

Loki tried to protest but was hushed by a brief but thorough kiss.

"You never actually answered my question." Fandral whispered against his lips before shifting away to look at him with expectation.

"I know." He didn't duck or look away. Just smiled sadly. The truth was there was some danger. The combining of disparate magics was always risky. Add in the Tesseract and the unpredictability of the land of the dead and so many things could go sideways.

A soft sigh slipped out and Fandral stole another quick kiss before stepping back. "Don't do anything stupid. You're not going to get rid of me that easily."

A loud clap interrupted them and drew their attention to the ERBM.

"All right. The science is done, time to bring on the voodoo." Tony announced to the room. Hands on hips and self-satisfied smirk in place, he stood in front of the ERBM like a proud papa to the glowing metal structure.

Loki sniffed and rolled his eyes but stood up. A look at Nuada and Nuala garnered a nod and the two of them moved closer to draw an intricate circle around the machine. He turned to address the room.

"Anyone who is not necessary to this process should leave the room. There is a small possibility that things could go terribly wrong."

Several of the support staff filed out, trying not to look too much like they were hurrying.

Loki glanced over his shoulder at Fandral but the warrior just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. Fury, Myers, the Captain and the BRPD agents stayed as well, settling not far from where Stark stood, a pair of dark goggles hanging around his neck, and Banner were settled at the computer ready to launch the bridge.

Thor and Agent Coulson stood a few feet outside the circle. The dark haired girl looked nervous but stood resolutely behind them.

Loki took a deep breath and moved inside the circle's border, feeling the tingle of fey magic when he crossed it. A shiver worked its way down his spine as he settled into the unusual energy. Once he had his own power melded into the pool, he waved his brother and the agent to join him. They took up position on either side of him, half way between the circle and the ERBM. Nuada and Nuala stood just behind them.

"Remember, once the bridge engages, you must focus all of your attention on the one you're trying to draw back. No matter what happens do not stop thinking about them."

Agent Coulson nodded but Thor frowned. "Will they return here or to the place in New Mexico?"

Stark piped up with the answer. "They _should_ come back here, with the adjustments we've made. Theoretically."

Thor's frown deepened.

"We have agents standing by at the alternate site, just in case," Coulson added and the steady agent's calm seemed to reassure Thor.

"If everyone is ready, you can start the machine," Loki told Stark.

A couple of key strokes and the floor began to rumble under their feet as generators came to life. Dark storm clouds boiled out of nowhere to cover the blue sky above the laboratory. The Tesseract glowed even brighter for a second before a globe of light formed at the top of the ERBM. Loki started his chant immediately. Behind him, the twins started theirs, an almost harmonic counterpoint to his own that twisted in and out of the rhythm of his words.

Behind the machine, blurred images shifted in and out of phase in the darkening room. Gray toned forest. Pinpoints of light in the night sky. A wasteland of sand and dead trees. As the chant became louder and louder, the gray forest flashed more and more in the rotation. In the shadows of the dense trees figures, human in shape, became more and more distinct.

Resisting the urge to grit his teeth, Loki kept the chant strong and unbroken while he focused all of his attention on the mental link he shared with Selvig.

 The ball of light doubled in size and exploded into a beam of light, straight up through the hole in the ceiling and out into the universe. The light grew brighter and brighter until he had to close his eyes against the assault on his retinas.

A loud thump sounded, barely audible over the cacophony of sound filling the room. A second. Then a third.

"Shut it down!" Someone shouted excitedly behind him. Stark, maybe. "Shut it down. We've got 'em. Shut it down."

The whine of generators slowed and the red flames dancing behind his eyelids faded. He cracked one eye to brave a peek. The bridge was gone and three new people filled the room. Loki let the chant trail off and ignored the sudden exhaustion seeping through his body while he enjoyed his success.

Jane was already in Thor's arms, crying and laughing while he squeezed her close and whispered softly against her hair. Selvig was getting slowly to his feet, blinking when he looked around in surprise. Darcy bounced and squealed between hugging him and dancing around Jane.

A tall man with a bow slung over his shoulder, presumably Barton, stood in front of Coulson with a wide grin. Even the agent allowed himself a brief smile.

"You got us back, sir."

One eyebrow arched a fraction. "Was there any doubt?"

"Not even for a second. Sir."

"Good." Someone had let the medical staff back into the room and they swarmed over the three returned personnel. Coulson stepped back to let them look at Barton. "Debrief, my office, as soon as you’re done with medical."

Then Coulson turned and headed back toward Fury and Myers.

Loki found himself blinking only to realize that his eyes wanted to stay closed. Lethargy tugged at him and he consider just sitting down on the floor. But a strong arm wrapped around his waist, tugging him close to a warm body. Fandral smiled down at him when he forced his eyes open.

"I've got you." The arm squeezed. It should feel demeaning but it just felt reassuring. "I'll always catch you."

With sudden clear insight, he realized Fandral meant it. That he'd fight for Loki, even if it meant fighting Loki himself.

And fighting seemed like such a wasted effort, he couldn't figure out why he thought it was a good idea.

He couldn't, however let Fandral have the last word, either.

"I know." A slow smile slipped across his face. "Just be prepared for when _I_ catch _you_."

 #

John stood back and watched the reunions with satisfaction. Jane and Thor remained wrapped around each other. Darcy jumping between Jane and Selvig to hug and scold them at the same time. Even the odd moment between Coulson and Barton, where what they said only seemed to be half the conversation.

They'd recovered the Tesseract and gotten their people back unscathed. Despite the satisfaction of a job well done, though, a bittersweet flavor ran underneath it for him. With the end of the mission, Hellboy, Liz and Abe would be returning to the BRPD. And they'd most likely be taking Nuala and Nuada with them.

He'd been reunited with his surrogate family for only a couple of weeks. Losing them, again, made his life emptier. He knew it wouldn't be like before. They'd talk now, maybe even visit. But it had been so simple, falling back into the familiar camaraderie. He liked SHIELD and respected Coulson, was grateful to the agent for taking him under wing but he never quite felt like he fit.

And that fit, that easy sliding into a John-shaped spot had only seemed more comfortable with Nuada in the mix. How was he ever going to figure out what the fuck was going on there, if he rarely ever saw the prince?

Coulson's approach pulled John out of his own head and he had to think for a second to make sure he'd maintained his blank expression. He forced the tension out of his jaw and consciously made his eyes relax.

The older agent didn't say anything just inclined his head to a quiet area of the lab. Myers fell into step beside him while they moved out of the hubbub and potential eavesdroppers.

Coulson turned his back to the middle the room, where the new arrivals were still the center of attention, his face serious and serene as usual. His body, however, was definitely stiffer than usual.

"Now that we've got this under control," he waved his hand back toward the semi-chaos behind him. "You've got a new assignment."

John's gut clenched so hard it took everything he had to stay standing straight. His current assignment was all he had going for him. Being Coulson's protégé had saved his sanity. And the last time he'd heard the word 'reassignment' he'd been exiled to Antarctica. What the fuck had he done now? Had someone noticed his crush on Nuada? Had Nuada, himself, felt John had overstepped their friendship?

"John?"

Coulson's concerned tone pulled his attention first, followed quickly by the use of his first name. He realized then that he'd lost control of his breathing, racing to catch it with shoulders hunched and eyes squeezed tight.

He inhaled, deep and steadying, opened his eyes and straightened until his body was steel-rod straight.

"Sir? My new assignment?"

Whatever it was, he'd deal with it. He'd dealt with everything else life had thrown at him so far, he'd manage to survive this, too.

Coulson narrowed his eyes, assessing John until he felt like the agent could see right into his heart. Apparently satisfied John wasn't going to have a breakdown, he settled back into his usual nondescript expression.

"We need a liaison with the BRPD."

"Liaison?"

"Yes, well, Fury and I think that the lines of jurisdiction are going to keep blurring between our organizations. Considering your history with the BRPD, you're the perfect man to have on the inside."

He stiffened, uncertain and torn. "I—I won't spy on them for SHIELD. I won't pass along privileged information."

One corner of Coulson's mouth curled up in what passed for a smile on the man. "I know. Of course, SHIELD will expect the same courtesy in return."

"Of course." And at some point today, he really was going to get his equilibrium back. "Uh, when?"

"As soon as we get this cleaned up and you get packed. You'll be heading over with them when they leave." He paused, then held out his hand, "It's been a pleasure to work with you, John."

He shook his mentor's hand, a little numb with shock. "Yes, sir. Thank you. Me too, sir."

He was still a little dazed when Coulson nodded and left the lab. He stood quietly for several minutes trying to absorb everything until a heavy red hand dropped onto his shoulder.

"Hear congratulations are in order. Along with welcome back."

Hellboy grinned around the unlit cigar in his mouth and John couldn't help grinning back.

"Yeah, well, you say that now. I give it a week before you try to trade me for a Baby Ruth and a six pack of beer."

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself Myers. Bet I could get a whole twelve pack for ya' in the Troll Market."

He tried to poke Hellboy in the side but met flesh that felt like solid rock. How the hell did Liz not break an elbow?

"So now you just have to convince elf-boy to join us and we'll be all set." Red added.

Before John could think of what to say, he was enveloped in a hug from Liz. "You’re back. Thank god. It's hard enough keeping an eye on the twins. I need help babysitting Red."

"Hey!"

Abe was next, shaking his hand enthusiastically and welcoming him with enthusiasm, Nuala by his side. He noticed immediately that Nuada was no longer in the lab but it took awhile for everyone to drift away from him. Eventually, he quietly asked Nuala where her brother had disappeared to.

She smiled, an all-knowing look he swore she had to have learned from Liz. It still made him blush, however.

"I believe he retired to the atrium. He finds it soothing."

"Right. Of course." He should have known. The atrium had been his favorite place in HQ. "Excuse me."

He found Nuada sitting cross-legged under a young oak tree. His eyes closed and his face smoothed into a serene expression the elf only ever achieved when he was meditating. John hesitated, debating whether to continue forward or retreat when one eye slowly lifted.

John froze and shrugged, caught staring.

"Sorry, I guess you probably wanted to be alone. Get away from all the craziness upstairs."

"Yes. I promised not to attempt to destroy humanity again." His lips peeled back into an expression that would have looked threatening to anyone else but John had come to recognize it as a smile. "It is a promise easier kept when I limit my time spent around them."

John’s heart plummeted and he shifted his weight backwards. "Uh, ok. I'll leave you alone, then."

Nuada's eyebrows drew down, lips falling as well. "I did not mean you, John. I find your presence soothing."

"You do?"

"I do."

"Oh. Good. That's good."

Silence stretched between them, Nuada's frown deepening as the moment lingered. "Would you care to join me in my meditation? Or was there a reason you searched me out?"

"Um. Yeah. A reason. Hellboy said you hadn't given him an answer about the spot at the BRPD yet?"

"That is because I have not yet made a decision."

"Oh." How was he supposed to say please come play with us without sounding pathetic? "Uh, well, if it makes any difference, I will be liaising with the Bureau. Actually, I'll be part of Hellboy's team again."

"It does, indeed, make a difference." Nuada glided to his feet in one smooth, graceful motion. With a solemn nod, he looked directly into John's eyes. The intensity of the amber gaze made him shiver and want to step forward.

"It does?"

"Yes. I will join, for as long as you are part of the team."

"Oh." John cleared his throat. Twice. Then the grin bloomed and he knew he wasn't going to stop smiling for hours. "Good. Good."

The smile he got in return was bright and real and unmistakable. John had no idea what it meant but, at least now, he had time to figure it out.

 #

Steve actually found himself shaking when he followed Tony into his bedroom. If he'd thought his own room in Stark's building was extravagant, he should have realized Tony's domain would be exorbitantly luxurious. The room itself was bigger than the apartment Steve had been staying in before coming to work for SHIELD. The bed was huge and unmade, covered in thick pillows, plush duvet and soft-looking sheets. He was sure the rest of the room was equally decadent but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the bed.

"Like what you see?"

His eyes finally skittered away to land on Tony, who looked relaxed and amused.

"Yeah, uh, that looks comfortable."

"It is." Tony lowered his voice and the sound ghosted over Steve's skin like a caress. "I promise."

Steve swallowed hard, his face heated and he forced himself to take a step back so he wouldn't just grab Tony like an animal in heat.

Tony chuckled and followed the move, stepping in even closer and letting his hands settle lightly on Steve's hips.

"So, wolf blood, huh?"

"Enzyme, actually," he corrected automatically, forcing his brain to focus on the conversation rather than the way Tony was now lightly stroking the skin by his waistband where his fingers had snuck under Steve's t-shirt.

"Whatever. You’re not going to like… wolf-out or anything, are you?"

"Wolf-out?"

"You know. Become a wolf. Shift into your animal form."

"No. I… No. According to Broom's notes that was a completely different mechanism that would have required DNA splicing." Steve frowned down at Tony's amused smirk and realized the man was baiting him. "No, I do not 'wolf out.'"

"Good. 'Cause bestiality is a line I haven't crossed yet." A frown pulled at the corner of his mouth and his eyes softened thoughtfully. "At least, I don't think so. There were those parties in Tijuana in the 90s that got a little blurry."

Steve didn't rise to the bait this time. He was too busy blushing when he remembered one of the theories Broom had included in his papers.

"There may be, um, some biting." He shifted his eyes and his voice dropped to a whisper.

But Tony heard him any way.

"Biting, huh? Didn't know you had it in you, Cap." The fingers of both hands dipped down into the back of Steve's jeans and he leaned up to sink his own teeth into the sensitive skin of Steve's lower lip. "Mmm."

Steve shuddered as the moan rolled through his flesh and his own hands cupped Tony's ass, pulling the man even closer. Their mouths shifted, opened, tasted and devoured in a kiss that felt like it never had to end. They were both hard and needy. Even through two layers of denim, the feeling of Tony's erection pressing against his was nearly enough to send him over the edge. The buzz in his head roared to life, racing through is body, tingling along his skin.

Tony broke the kiss and leaned back to stare at him with wide-eyed wonder.

"Christ, what is that?"

"What?"

"The, I don't know. Electricity is such a romance novel cliché. But touching you is like touching a live wire."

"Sorry." Steve let go completely scrambling back. "God. Sorry. It's the bond, I think. Trying to connect us. We can stop. We don't have to… I can go."

"What? Are you insane? Get your ass back over here."

Tony grabbed his shoulders and wrestled him closer and shifted until they both landed on the bed. Steve let himself be manhandled but put his hand on Tony's chest before their lips met. "Wait. Are you sure about this Tony?"

He got an eye roll and a hand tangling in his hair just past the point of painful. "I've already told you I'm sure, Rogers. I don't like repeating myself. Now shut up and bond with me, Steve. Or I'm going to start without you."

It was enough. His instincts kicked in. The primal part of him had given into the civilized half for too long.

Steve swooped in, plunging his tongue between Tony's still parted lips, rolling so Tony was pressed back into the bed. The kiss was wet and dirty and long enough to steal both their breaths. Tony was panting when Steve let his lips drift across the stubbled jaw and nuzzled behind his ear.

Strong fingers curled into his shoulders before Tony moaned and arched into his body. "Christ, Steve. Please."

He smiled against the soft skin, baring his teeth and sinking them into the vulnerable, exposed tendons of Tony's throat.

The body under his jerked again and Tony hissed in his ear. "Yesss. God, yes."

The buzz rose up again, enormous and unstoppable enveloping them both, ramping up everything until they both trembled and crawled together in hungry, unquenchable need. He felt connected to Tony, could feel a corner of his mind occupied by a complete and total awareness of Tony Stark. Tony paused and looked at Steve, dark eyes filled with awe, and, thank god, unmarred joy.

Then fingers and hands were scrambling between them as Tony tried to divest them both of their clothes at the same time. All that movement was surprisingly efficient when, a minute later, Steve found himself naked and flat on his back under an equally naked Tony straddling his hips.

"I'm part of you now?" It wasn't quite a question. It was pleasure and hope and awe and confirmation

"I think… Yes."

"And you're part of me."

"Yes. Thank God. Yes." The buzz had subsided but he knew it would always pulse between them now.

Tony's smile was slow and sexy and full of dark promise. "Good."

He leaned over and licked his way into Steve's mouth. Clever, agile hands stroked over his chest, teasing rock-hard nipples with tweaks and brushes and pinches until he was moaning and writhing under Tony's expert touch.

The hands slid down over his torso, tracing each line and muscle of his stomach, thumbs dipping into the hollows of his hips.

"Tony." The name tasted like honey on his tongue. "Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony."

"I've got you, Steve. I've got you, forever."

A strong, hand wrapped firmly around Steve's cock and he bucked up into the heat. The moans scraped into a keening, needy sound. With the last scraps of reason not swamp with pleasure and passion, Steve reached down and cradled Tony's straining erection.

The kisses got messier and more satisfying as the rhythm between them became frantic, the electric buzz filled the room making them restless and saturating them with a sweet, hot pressure. As it built, the pressure rose and the awareness of Tony grew until it filled his every sense. The smell of his need, the shiver of his skin, the primal growls of passion vibrating its sweetness of his tongue. Tony was all he knew, all he wanted to know. All he ever wanted.

When Tony's body shuddered and pressed hard, when his mouth stopped to whine, hot and long into Steve's, the sweetness and primal need pushed him over the edge.

Pleasure, hot and sweet vibrated between them, their bodies froze and heat spilled between them before white bliss washed away everything.

It took several minutes before Steve collected enough pieces of himself to open his eyes and take stock of his surroundings.

Tony's body, limp and sweat slick, covered his. His face nuzzled into the hollow of Steve's throat, his breath slowing but still coming in soft panting bursts. The sticky heat between them was already cooling but Steve couldn't even imagine moving to clean up.

When the normally manic Tony remained silent and still, however, panic started to eat away at Steve's pleasure-sated lethargy.

"Uh, Tony, is everything okay?"

The head turned slightly so one eye could stare up at him with incredulity. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Um. Are you all right? I mean you’re not having second thoughts are you? I mean. It's okay. If you are… I just…"

"Second thoughts?" The head lifted off his shoulder, both eyes staring at him like he was insane.

For the first time in, well, ever, Steve wished he could shrink down to his former size. Instead, he spoke with the smallest voice he could manage. "I can go, if you want."

Tony's eyes closed and his lips moved silently. Steve was pretty sure he was counting to ten. But it wasn't in English.

"Tony—"

A fierce, harsh kiss shut him up. Then Tony bit his lip and pulled away.

"Steve, if we're going to keep having amazing sex, you're going to have to learn to let me enjoy the afterglow."

"Amazing? Afterglow?" His heart lifted and the fear receded, his arms tightening around Tony and pulling him closer.

"And rule number two will be not repeating everything I say, 'cause that just gets annoying when I'm not the one doing it." He snuggled back into Steve's embrace.

"Sorry. Just not used to you being so quiet for so long. I panicked."

"I noticed. Don't worry. I was just contemplating the fact that, if you can make me white out from a handjob, the rest of our lives is just going to be spectacular."

"The rest of our lives. I really like the sound of that."

"So do I, surprisingly enough. I may also have been designing the rings in my head."

His voice got softer and the sentence trailed off toward the end as Tony fell into a doze. But Steve's heart was racing, joy and relief filling every cell. Tony was his. Tony _wanted_ to be his.

The rest of their lives stretched out like a blank canvas Steve couldn't wait to fill with happy sketches.


	5. Bonus Scene

Bonus Scene

Phil didn't look up at the knock at his door. He didn't need to. He recognized the sound of those knuckles on that door. So familiar, the sound actually allowed him to relax a fraction. His shoulders loosened and the tightness banding his heart and lungs for weeks finally snapped and let him breathe freely.

He didn't say come in. Didn't have to. Clint Barton had never waited for an invitation in his life. Phil couldn't imagined even two weeks in the land of the dead had changed that.

When the sniper walked in, Phil kept his head down like he was focused on the paperwork in front of him. His eyes, though, under the cover of his lashes, watched the lean body move across the floor. All strength and grace and prowling awareness. He'd found clean clothes somewhere on his way down. Whatever had happened to him, he didn't look any worse for wear.

In fact, after what Phil had been imagining, he looked damn good.

And that was enough of that train of thought. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

When Phil reopened them, Clint had settled into the chair across from him. An unfamiliar look tugged at his eyes. Something between curiosity and determination.

"So Hill filled me in the highlights of your adventures the past three weeks. Including the voodoo Loki pulled out of his hat." He leaned back, one foot crossed over the opposite knee. "Thank you, by the way."

Startled, Phil met his eyes straight on. The deliberate way Clint looked back made his heart start to hammer. And the soft thoughtful smile made his body warm and his brain shout a danger warning.

Forcing his face into the bland mask he used to drive Stark crazy, he shot for a mildly interested tone. "For what?"

"You called me back from the land of the dead."

Deep breath and a casual shrug while he looked down at the paperwork. "Someone had to."

The silence stretched out so long, Phil finally looked back up to find the smirk curling across Barton's mouth.

"Look, I'm just a simple marksman…"

Phil snorted. He would never classify Barton as a _simple_ anything.

Clint dipped his head and flashed a quick, acknowledging grin.

"Anyway, I didn't understand half of the magic/science mumbo-jumbo. But I understood enough to get that it wouldn't have worked if a 'close connection' hadn't step forward to call me back. Not many of those in my life."

"Natasha wasn't here. And we've worked together for years." His pulse kicked up a beat. They were getting too close to things that he really never wanted Clint to even have a suspicion of.

"Same number as I've worked with Sitwell or Hill. They didn't step forward."

The plastic of the pen in his hand bent a little under the pressure of his tightening grip. "They weren't in that meeting," he reminded Clint. "I'm sure they would have—"

"Bullshit."

Phil blinked at the way Clint quietly uttered the word. It wasn't angry or frustrated. Just a sharp verbal line in the sand.

"Excuse me?"

Clint leaned forward, all pretense of casualness set aside. "Jane and Thor are practically soul mates. Loki had that mind meld or whatever with Selvig. It made them so close he could slip into the doctor's mind."

"Mind meld?" Phil tried to inject some humor into it and sidetrack the subject before it went any farther. "Never took you for a Trekkie, Barton."

Clint didn't laugh, instead his mouth flattened into a tight line and his eyes drilled hard into Phil, trying to see something that Phil refused to show.

"Fuck this!" Anger graveled Clint's voice and he pushed up out of the chair.

When the agent took a step back, Phil knew he should feel relieved. But the thought of Clint walking away, even briefly, had him panicking.

He pushed to his feet, ready to say something, anything. But he had no words. Not ones he was willing to say.

Except. He didn't have to say anything at all. Because Clint wasn't leaving. In a heartbeat, the archer had moved around the desk and planted himself firmly in Phil's space. A strong, agile hand came up to carefully cradle his jaw, lifting it firmly.

Strong lips ghosted over his, a soft question more than pressure or demand. He could step away. Pretend it wasn't what he'd wanted for years. But he had wanted it. What he felt for Clint wasn't something he could ignore. Not now, when it was possible the archer felt the same. Phil pushed up to kiss back hard, his hands landing on Clint's hips and trying to move in closer.

He had no idea how long they remained glued to each other but, eventually, Clint eased out of the kiss and started to shift away. The soft sound of protest slipped out of Phil's lips before he could stop it. Then he caught himself and ruthlessly pulled back on his mask of control, dropped his hands and stepped away to give himself space for whatever let down Barton intended to give him.

Or, at least, that was the plan. But Clint snaked one arm tight around Phil's waist and held him there.

"Whoa. We're not giving up on this that easy. I just thought, before we got too deep, there should be some full disclosure. All right?"

Phil nodded but his mind was racing. How much to tell? How much to hold back? Should he hold back at all? Or could he finally have the brass ring if he laid it all on the line?

But Clint was the one doing the talking.

"Okay, first, I've wanted to do that for a long time." The thumb of his free hand brushed along Phil's lower lip. "I'm guessing since I don't have a bloody nose, the feeling was somewhat mutual?"

Phil considered dissembling but a hint of uncertainty darkened blue eyes and he couldn't deny the truth.

"Yeah," Phil's voice rasped, letting the years of repressed need draw out the word until the doubt disappeared into a brilliant smile.

"Good. Second, from what Hill said, I got that you've already heard about the Well of Dreams from Loki?"

"The thing where he saw a possible future?"

"Yeah. Well, I kind of looked into it, too."

The wary way Clint was dragging this out made Phil sigh with resignation. Apparently the sappy part was over and it was time to get back to the final debrief.

"Okay, what kind of apocalypse do we have to prepare for next?"

"Uh, no. Not anything like that. My vision was a little more personal." He dipped his head and an actual blush crawled across Barton's cheeks. He'd once rescued the archer from chains and a collar at a BDSM club and this was the first time he'd ever seen a tinge of embarrassed pink on his features.

"Personal?"

"Yeah. Really personal. You and me. Naked and in a bed."

Phil laughed.

"You had a mystic vision of us having sex? Wow, Barton, that is the worst pick up line ever."

"I know," he chuckled, but his eyes stayed locked on Phil's "And yet, still true."

Humor fled when he realized Clint wasn't kidding. And while he didn't believe in omens, Phil hadn't survived this long by kicking sand in fate's teeth, either.

"Well, then. I guess we're obligated by destiny to find a bed." 


End file.
